ODDS AND ENDS
The most amusing columns in German daily papers are those devoted to
family advertisement. There you find the prolix intimate announcements
of domestic events compared with which the first column of the _Times_
is so bare, so _nichtssagend_.
"The birth of a second son is announced with joy by Dr
Johann Weber and Wife Martha, born Hansen."--Dresden,
22 May 1907.
"Emil Harzdorf and wife Magdalene, born Klaus, have the
honour to announce the birth of a strong
girl."--Hamburg, 26 May 1907.
Boy babies are nearly always _stramm_, the girl babies are _kräftig_,
and the parents are _hocherfreut_, as they should be. Engagements and
marriages are advertised more simply, and your eye is not caught by
them as it is by the big black bordered paragraphs that inform the
world that someone has just left it.
"To-day, in consequence of a stroke of apoplexy, my deeply
loved husband, our dear father, grandfather,
father-in-law, brother, and uncle fell asleep. In the
name of the survivors, Olga Wagner, born
Richter.--Leipzig, 23 May 1907."
This is a curt announcement compared with many. When the deceased has
occupied any kind of official post, or has been an employer of labour,
a long register of his many virtues accompanies the advertisement of
his death. "He who has just passed away was an exemplary chief, a
fatherly friend and adviser, who by his benevolence erected an
everlasting monument to himself in the hearts of his colleagues and
subordinates." He who had just passed away had been the head of a
small soap factory, and this advertisement was put in by the factory
hands just beneath the one signed by all the family. Another
advertisement on the same page expresses thanks for sympathy, "on the
death of my dear wife, our good mother, grandmother, mother-in-law,
aunt, sister-in-law, and cousin, Frau Angelika Pankow, born Salbach."
A German friend who had to undergo an operation last year wrote just
before to tell me she expected to come through safely. "If not," she
said, "you'll receive a card like this"--
"Yesterday passed away
Adelaide Deminski, born Weigert,
Her heart-broken
Husband
Grandmother
Father
Mother
Sons
Daughters
Sons-in-law
Daughters-in-law
Brothers
Sisters
Brothers-in-law
Sisters-in-law
Uncles
Aunts
Cousins";
for Germans themselves laugh at these advertisements, and assure the
inquiring foreigner that their vogue has had its day. But if the
inquiring foreigner looks at the right papers he will find as many as
ever. You will also find matrimonial advertisements in papers that are
considered respectable.
But when you turn to the news columns for details of some event that
is startling the world, whether it is a crime, an earthquake, a
battle, or a royal wedding, you find a few lines that vex you with
their insufficiency. Our English papers have pages about a German
coronation, German manoeuvres, German high jinks at Köpenick. But when
I wanted to see what happened in London on our day of Diamond Jubilee
I found five lines about Queen Victoria having driven to St. Paul's
accompanied by her family and some royal guests. I was in a country
inn at the time, and the paper taken there was one taken everywhere in
the duchy. It is a great mistake to think that German newspaper
hostility to England dates from the Transvaal War. The same journal
that spared five lines to the Jubilee gave a column to a question
asked by one of our parliamentary cranks about the ill-treatment of
natives by Britons in India. The question was met by a complete and
convincing denial, but we had to turn to our English papers to find
that recorded. The ---- _Tageblatt_ printed the question with
comments, and suppressed the denial. As long ago as 1883, when there
was cholera in Egypt, a little Thuringian paper we saw weekly had
frenzied articles about the evil English who were doing all they could
to bring the scourge to Germany. I think we had refused some form of
quarantine that modern medical science considers worse than useless.
The tone of the press all through the Transvaal War did attract some
attention in this country, and since then from time to time we are
presented with quotations from abusive articles about our greed, our
perfidy, and our presumption. I am not writing as a journalist, for I
know nothing whatever of journalism; but as a member of the general
public I believe that we are inclined to overrate the importance of
these amenities, because we overrate the part played by the newspaper
in the average German household. One can only speak from personal
experience, but I should say that it hardly plays a part at all.
Whatever Tageblatt is in favour with the _Hausherr_ comes in every
morning, and is stowed away tidily in a corner till he has time to
look at it while he drinks his coffee and smokes his cigar. If the
ladies of the household are inclined that way they look at it too. But
there really is not much to look at as a rule. These paragraphs about
the wicked British that seem so pugnacious when they are printed on
solid English paper in plain English words, are often in a corner with
other political paragraphs about other wicked nations. At times of
crisis, when the leading papers are attacking us at great length, the
Germans themselves will talk of _Zeitungsgeschrei_ and shrug their
shoulders. It is absurd to deny the existence of Anglophobia in
Germany, because you can hardly travel there without coming across
isolated instances of it. But these isolated instances will stand out
against a crowded background of people from whom you have received the
utmost kindness and friendship; and of other people with whom your
relations have been fleeting, but who have been invariably civil.
Unfortunately the German Anglophobe is a creature of the meanest
breed, and he impresses himself on the memory like a pain; so that one
of him looms larger than fifty others, just as the moment will when
you had your last tooth out, and not the summer day that went before
and after. The truth is, that we are on the nerves of certain
Germans. You may live for ever in an English family and never hear a
German mentioned. You would assuredly not hear the nation
everlastingly discussed and scolded. As far as we are concerned, they
are welcome to their own manners, their own ways, and their own
opinions. If they would only take their stand on these and leave ours
alone we could meet on equal terms. But that is the one thing this
particular breed of German cannot do. He must be always arguing with
you about the superiority of his nation to yours, and you soon think
him the most tiresome and offensive creature you ever met. In private
life you can usually avoid him and seek out those charming German
people who, even if their Tageblatt teaches them that they should hate
England, will never extend their hatred to the English stranger within
their gates, and who will admit you readily and kindly to their
pleasant unaffected lives. Germany is full of such people, whatever
the German newspapers are saying.
Presumably every country has the press that suits it, and in one
respect German journalism is more dignified and estimable than our
own. It does not publish columns of silly society gossip, or of
fashions that only a duchess can follow and only a kitchen-maid can
read. Nor would the poorest, smallest provincial Tageblatt descend to
the depths of musical criticism in which one of our popular dailies
complacently flounders all through the London season.
"I cannot tell you much about last night's Wagner opera, because to my
great annoyance the auditorium was dark nearly all the time. Once when
we were allowed to see each other for a moment I noticed that the
Duchess of Whitechapel was in her box, looking so lovely in cabbage
green. Mrs. 'Dicky' Fitzwegschwein was in the stalls with a ruby
necklace and a marvellous coat of rose velours spangled in diamonds,
and on the grand tier I saw Lady 'Bobby' Holloway, who is of course
the daughter-in-law of Lord Islington, in black net over silver, quite
the dernier cri this season, and looking radiant over her sister Lady
Yolande's engagement to the Duke of Bilgewater. Richter conducted with
his usual brilliance, and the new Wotan sang with great élan, although
he was obviously suffering from a cold in his head."
It is impossible to imagine Berlin waking some winter morning to find
such a "criticism" as this on its breakfast table. In Germany, people
who understand music write about music, and people who understand
about fashions write about fashions, and the two subjects, both of
them interesting and important, are kept apart. Society journalists
who write about Lady Bobbies and Mrs. Fitzwegschweins do not exist yet
in Germany, and so far the empire seems to worry along quite
comfortably without them. I once asked a well-known English journalist
who is of German birth, why one of our newspaper kings did not set up
a huge, gossipy, frivolous paper in Berlin, and it was explained to me
that it would be impossible, because the editor and his staff would
probably find themselves in prison in a week. What we understand by
Freedom of the Press does not exist there.
On the other hand, books and pamphlets are circulated in Germany that
would be suppressed here; and the stage is freer than our own. _Monna
Vanna_ had a great success in Berlin, where Mme. Maeterlinck played
the part to crowded audiences. _Salome_ is now holding the stage both
as a play and with Richard Strauss' music as an opera; Gorky's
_Nachtasyl_ is played year after year in Berlin. Both French and
German plays are acted all over Germany that could not be produced in
England, both because the censor would refuse to pass them and because
public opinion would not tolerate them, unless, to be sure, they were
played in their own tongues. It is most difficult to explain our
attitude to Germans who have been in London, because they know what
vulgar and vicious farces and musical comedies pass muster with us,
and indeed are extremely popular. It is only when a play touches the
deeps of life and shows signs of thought and of poetry that we take
fright, and by the lips of our chosen official cry, "This will never
do." Tolstoy, Ibsen, Gorky, Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Hauptmann, and
Otto Ernst are the modern names I find on one week's programme cut
from a Berlin paper late in spring when the theatrical season was
nearly over. Besides plays by these authors, one of the State theatres
announced tragedies by Goethe, Schiller, and a comedy by Molière. _The
Merchant of Venice_ was being played at one theatre and _A Midsummer
Night's Dream_ at another; there were farces and light operas for some
people, and Wagner, Gluck, and Beethoven at the Royal Opera House for
others. The theatre in Germany is a part of national life and of
national education, and it is largely supported by the State; so that
even in small towns you get good music and acting. The Meiningen
players are celebrated all over the world, and everyone who has read
Goethe's Life will remember how actively and constantly he was
interested in the Weimar stage. At a _Stadt-Theater_ in a small town
two or three operas are given every week, and two or three plays. Most
people subscribe for seats once or twice a week all through the
winter, and they go between coffee and supper in their ordinary
clothes. Even in Berlin women do not wear full dress at any theatre.
In the little towns you may any evening meet or join the leisurely
stream of playgoers, and if you enter the theatre with them you will
find that the women leave their hats with an attendant. You are in no
danger in Germany of having the whole stage hidden from you by flowers
and feathers.
Shakespeare is as much played as Goethe and Schiller, and it is most
interesting and yet most disappointing to hear the poetry you know
line upon line spoken in a foreign tongue. Germans say that their
translation is more beautiful and satisfying than the original
English; but I actually knew a German who kept Bayard Taylor's _Faust_
by his bedside because he preferred it to Goethe's. I think there is
something the matter with people who prefer translated to original
poetry, but I will leave a critic of standing to explain what ails
them. I have never met a German who would admit that Shakespeare was
an Englishman. They say that his birth at Stratford-on-Avon was a
little accident, and that he belongs to the world. They say this out
of politeness, because what they really believe is that he belongs to
Germany, and that as a matter of fact Byron is the only great poet
England has ever had. I am not joking. I am not even exaggerating.
This is the real opinion of the German man in the street, and it is
taught in lessons in literature. An English girl went to one of the
best-known teachers in Berlin for lessons in German, and found, as she
found elsewhere, that the talk incessantly turned on the crimes of
England and the inferiority of England.
"You have had two great names," said the teacher,--"two and no more.
That is, if one can in any sense of the word call Shakespeare an
English name ... Shakespeare and Byron, ... then you have finished.
You have never had anyone else, and Shakespeare has always belonged
more to us than to you."
The English girl gasped, for she knew something of her own literature.
"But have you never heard about Chaucer," she asked, "or of the
Elizabethans, or of Milton, Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth...?"
"_Reden Sie nicht, reden Sie nicht!_" cried the teacher,--"I never
allow my pupils to argue with me. Shakespeare and Byron ... no, Byron
only, ... then England has done."
You still find Byron in every German household where English is read
at all, and no one seems to have found out what fustian most of his
poetry really was. Ruskin and Oscar Wilde are the two popular modern
authors, and the novel-reading public chooses, so several booksellers
assured me, Marion Crawford and Mrs. Croker. I could not hear a word
anywhere of Stevenson or Rudyard Kipling, but I did come across one
person who had enjoyed _Richard Feverel_.
"Your English novels are rather better than they used to be, are they
not?" said a lady to me in good faith, and I found it a difficult
question to answer, because I had always believed that we had a long
roll of great novelists; but then, I had also thought that England had
a few poets.
The most popular German novels are mostly translated into English, and
all German novels of importance are reviewed in our papers. So English
people who read German know what a strong reaction there is against
the moonshine of fifty years ago. The novels most in vogue exhibit the
same coarse, but often thoughtful and impressive, realism that
prevails on the stage and in the conversation and conduct of some sets
of people in the big cities. The _Tagebuch einer Verlorenen_ has sold
75,000 copies, and it is the story of a German _Kamelliendame_
compared with whom Dumas' lady is moonshine. It is a haunting picture
of a woman sinning against the moral and social law, and no one with
the least sense or judgment could put it on the low level of certain
English novels that sell because they are offensive, and for no other
reason in the world. _Aus guter Familie_, by Gabrielle Reuter, is
another remarkable novel, and I believe it has never been translated
into English. It presents the poignant tragedy of a woman's life
suffocated by the social conditions obtaining in a small German town
where a woman has no hope but marriage, and if she is poor no chance
of marriage. It is one of the most sincere books I ever read. _Das
Tägliche Brot_, Klara Viebig's story of servant-life in Berlin, is
another typical novel of the present day, and that has been translated
for those amongst us who do not read German. I choose these three
novels for mention because they are written by women, and because they
are brilliant examples of the modern tone amongst women. If you want
the traditional German qualities of sentiment, poetry, formlessness,
and dreamy childlike charm, you must read novels written by men.
I have said very little about music in Germany, because we all know
and admit that it reaches heights there no other nation can approach.
An Englishman writing about Germany lately says that you often hear
very bad music there, but I think his experience must have been
exceptional and unfortunate. I am sure that Germans do not tolerate
the vapid dreary drawing-room songs we listen to complacently in this
country; for in England people often have beautiful voices without any
musical understanding, or technical facility without charm. I suppose
such cases must occur amongst Germans too, and in the end one speaks
of a foreign nation partly from personal experience, which must be
narrow, and partly from hearsay. I have met Germans who were not
musical, but I have never met any who were pleased with downright bad
music. On the whole, it is the art they understand best, the one in
which their instinctive taste is sure and good. You would not find
that the Byron amongst composers, whoever he may be, was the one they
set up for worship. Nor do you find the street of a German city or
suburb infested with barrel-organs. There is some kind of low dancing
saloon or _café chantant_ called a Tingl-Tangl where I imagine they
have organs and gramaphones and suchlike horrors, but then unless you
chance to pass their open windows you need not endure their strains.
In England, even if we are fond of music, and therefore sensitive to
jarring sounds and maudlin melodies, yet in the street we cannot
escape the barrel-organ nor in the house the drawing-room songs. As if
these were not enough, we now invite each other to listen to the
pianotist and the pianola.
"I will explain my country to you," said the artist one day when I had
expressed myself puzzled by the curious gaps in German taste, and even
in German knowledge; by their enthusiasm for the second rate in poetry
and literature, and by their amazing uncertain mixture of information
and blank complacent ignorance. For when an Englishman says "Goethe!
Schiller!--Was is das?" you are not surprised. It is just what you
expect of an Englishman, and for all that he may know how to build
bridges and keep his temper in games and argument. But when a German
teacher of literature tells you Byron is the only English poet, and
when the whole nation neglects some of our big men but runs wild over
certain little ones, you listen eagerly for any explanation
forthcoming. "We have _Wissen_," said the artist, "we have _Kunst_;
but we have no _Kultur_."
I did not recover from the shock he gave me till the evening, when I
saw the professor of philosophy and æsthetics.
"The artist says that you have no _Kultur_," I told him; for I wanted
to see how he received a shock.
"The artist speaks the truth," said the professor calmly. I have never
met anyone more civilised and scholarly then he was himself; and I set
a high value on his opinion.
"What is _Kultur_?" I asked.
"One result of it is a fine discrimination," he replied, "a fine
discrimination in art, in conduct, and in manner."
"Are you not the most intellectual people in the world?" I said
reproachfully.
He seemed to think that had nothing to do with it.
"Are you still worrying your head about _Kultur_?" said the artist
next time I saw him. "Then I will explain a little more to you. I, as
you know, am extremely _anti-Semite_."
"I am sure that is not a proof of _Kultur_," I said hurriedly.
"It is not a proof of anything. It is a result. Nevertheless I
perceive that if it were not for the Jews there would be neither art
nor literature in Germany. They create, they appreciate, they support,
and although we affect to despise them we invariably follow them like
sheep. What they admire we admire; what they discover we see to be
good. But ... I told you I was _anti-Semite_, ... though they have
most of the brains in the country, they have little _Kultur_. One of
us who is as stupid as an ox, ... most of us are as stupid as oxen,
... may have more, ... but because he is stupid he cannot impose his
opinion on the multitude."
"Do you mean that the Jews set the fashion in art and literature, and
that they sometimes set a bad one?" I asked
"That is exactly what I mean."
It was a curious theory, and I will not be responsible for its truth.
But there is no doubt that in every German town artistic and literary
society has its centre amongst the educated Jews. They are most
generous hosts, and it is their pleasure to gather round them an
aristocracy of genius. The aristocracy that is perfectly happy without
genius would as a rule not enter a Jew's house; though the poorer
members of the aristocracy often marry a Jew's daughter. Where there
is inter-marriage some social intercourse is presumably inevitable.
But the social crusade against Jews is carried on in Germany to an
extent we do not dream of here. The Christian clubs and hostels
exclude them, Christian families avoid them, and Christian insults are
offered to them from the day of their birth. "What do you use those
long lances for?" said the wife of a Jewish professor to a young man
in a cavalry regiment. "_Damit hetzen wir die Juden_," said he, with
the snarl of his kind; and he knew very well that the lady's husband
was a Jew. I have been told a story of a Jewish girl being asked to a
Court ball by the Emperor Frederick, and finding that none of the men
present would consent to dance with her. I have heard of girls who
wished to ask a Jewish schoolmate to a dance, and discovered that
their Christian friends flatly refused to meet anyone of her race. How
any Christians contrive to avoid it I do not understand, for wherever
you go in Germany some of the great scholars, doctors, men of science,
art, and literature, are men of Jewish blood. The press is almost
entirely in their hands, and when there is a scurrilous artist or a
coarse picture your friends explain it by saying that the tone of
that special paper is _jüdisch_. The modern campaign against Jews
began nearly thirty years ago, when a Court chaplain called Stöcker
startled the world by the violence of his invective. But the fire he
stirred to flame must have been smouldering. He and his followers gave
the most ingenuous reasons for curtailing Jewish rights and privileges
in Germany, one of which was the provoking fact that Jewish boys did
more brilliantly at school than Christians. The subject bristles with
difficulties, and no one who knows the German Jew intimately will wish
to pose him as a persecuted saint. The Christian certainly makes it
unpleasant for him socially, but in one way or the other he holds his
own. I have seen him vexed and offended by some brutal slight, but his
keen sense of humour helps him over most stiles. So no doubt does his
sense of power. "They will not admit me to their clubs or ask my
daughters to their dances," said a Jewish friend, "but they come to me
for money for their charities." And I knew that half the starving poor
in the town came to his wife for charity, and that she never sent one
empty away.
When a very clever, sensitive, numerically small race has lived for
hundreds of years cheek by jowl with a dense brutal race that has
never ceased to insult and humiliate it, you cannot be surprised if
those clever but highly sensitive ones become imbued in course of time
with a painful undesirable conviction that the brutes are their
superiors. So you have the spectacle in Germany of Jews seeking
Christian society instead of avoiding it; and you hear them boast
quite artlessly of their _christlicher Umgang_. They would really
serve their people and even themselves more if they refused all
_christlicher Umgang_ until the Christians had learned to behave
themselves. An Englishwoman living in Berlin told me that once as she
came out of a concert hall an officer standing in the crowd stared at
her and said, so that everyone could hear: "At last! a single face
that is not a _jüdischer Fratz_." The concert, you will understand,
must have been a good one, and therefore largely attended by a Jewish
audience. Possibly the officer who so much disliked his surroundings
had married a Jewish heiress and was waiting for his wife. Such things
happen. During the worst times of Stöcker's campaign a woman with
Jewish features could hardly go out unescorted; and even now, though
it is not openly expressed, you can hardly fail to catch some note of
sympathy with the Russian persecution of the Jews. The deep helpless
genuine horror felt in England at the pogroms is felt in a fainter way
in Northern Germany.
Meanwhile the Jewish woman of the upper classes takes her revenge by
knowing how to dress. In German cities, when you see a woman who is
"exquisite," slim that is and graceful, dainty from head to foot and
finely clad, then you may vow by all the gods that she has Jewish
blood in her.
APPENDIX
Page 4, l. 26. _Wunderkind_: a prodigy.
Page 8, l. 5. _Wickelkinder_: infants in swaddling clothes.
Page 9, l. 26. _Mamsell_: supervising housekeeper.
Page 11, l. 13. _Die Kunst im Leben des Kindes_: art in the life
of the child.
Page 12, l. 14. _Pestalozzi Fröbel Haus_: named for the two great
educators, Pestalozzi and Fröbel.
Page 12, l. 31. _pf._: _pfennig_, a quarter of a cent.
Page 13, l. 22. _Das Recht des Kindes_: the right of the child.
Page 16, l. 2. _Gymnasium_: school where Latin and Greek are
taught (humanistic education).
Page 16, l. 2. _Real-Gymnasium_: school where Latin, modern
languages, mathematics, science, and history are taught. No
Greek.
Page 16, l. 3. _Ober-Real Schule_: school where mathematics,
science, history, French, and English are taught.
Page 16, l. 3. _Real-Schule_: a school which prepares for
practical life, not for the university; modern languages are
included in the curriculum.
Page 17, l. 7. _Abiturienten_: graduates from a Gymnasium or
Ober-Real Schule.
Page 17, l. 14. _mark_: a quarter of a dollar.
Page 17, l. 19. _Flachsmann als Erzieher_: Flachsmann as a
pedagogue.
Page 19, l. 8. _Evangelisch_: Protestant.
Page 20, l. 19. _Schauspielhaus_: theatre.
Page 20, l. 21. _Was ist das?_ what is that?
Page 20, l. 26. _Höhere Töchterschule_: high school for girls.
Page 21, l. 33. _Ober Lehrerin_: high grade teacher.
Page 22, l. 14. _Lyceen_: school where Latin and Greek is taught.
Page 22, l. 14. _Ober-Lyceen_: school preparing for the
university.
Page 22, l. 31. _Allgemeine deutsche Frauenverein_: Universal
League of German Women.
Page 23, l. 10. _Allgemeine deutsche Lehrerinnen-Verein_:
Universal League of German Teachers.
Page 23, l. 13. _Real-Kurse für Mädchen und Frauen_: courses for
girls and women outside of those found in the school system, and
preparing for the university.
Page 24, l. 11. _Gymnasialkurse_: the above plan organised into
preparatory schools for women for the university.
Page 26, l. 12. _Stift_: private or state school with board and
residence. Also an endowed home for gentlewomen, with certain
privileges--either with or without a school for girls.
Page 30, l. 7. _Volkschule_: public school.
Page 30, l. 9. _Nicht völlig normal_: rather weak intellectually,
abnormal.
Page 32, l. 24. _Schulrat_: superintendent of schools.
Page 33, l. 12. _Waldschule_: forest school in open air.
Page 34, l. 16. _Griesbrei_: porridge made of farina.
Page 34, l. 21. _Nudelsuppe_: soup of noodles. Vermicelli soup.
Page 36, l. 8. _Ich liebe einen Backfisch_: I love a girl in her
teens.
Page 36, l. 20. _Backfisch-Moden_: fashions for misses.
Page 38, l. 33. _Backfischen's Leiden und Freuden_: Sorrows and
Joys of a Backfisch.
Page 41, l. 12. _Jawohl, liebe Tante_: yes, certainly, dear aunt.
Page 43, l. 34. _Sie geniren sich gewiss_: you are surely too shy.
Page 44, l. 34. _Braut_: betrothed.
Page 45, l. 9. _Ein junges Mädchen muss immer heiter sein_: young
girl must always be cheerful.
Page 48, l. 13. _Privatdocenten_: private lecturer.
Page 51, l. 9. _Volkslieder_: folk songs.
Page 51, l. 9. _Trinklieder_: drinking songs.
Page 51, l. 34. _Burschenschaft_: students' corporation.
Page 52, l. 8. _Alte Herren Abende_: old gentlemen's (former
students) evenings.
Page 53, l. 14. "_Auf die Mensur_": Ready, begin!
Page 54, l. 9. _raisonniren_: to reason, to argue, to dispute, to
scold about.
Page 54, l. 9. _geniren_: to embarrass, to trouble.
Page 54, l. 13. _Der Bier Comment_: beer drinking custom; the
commanding phrase for a drink called Salamander.
Page 54, l. 20. _Bierdurst_: beer thirst.
Page 54, l. 23. _Kneiptafel_: a kind of club table, where men
generally spend evenings drinking beer and joining in songs.
Page 55, l. 27. "_Silentium für einen Biergalopp, ich bitte den
nötigen Staff anzuschaffen_": Silence for a beer gallop; please
provide the necessary stuff.
Page 56, l. 19. _Kommers_: students' festival evening, drinking
bout.
Page 56, l. 22. _In vollem Wichs_: in full dress.
Page 56, l. 27. "_Sauft alle mit einander_": Drink all together.
Page 65, l. 2. _Stammtisch_: a club table, where every member has
a reserved seat.
Page 67, l. 15. "_Man soll_," etc.: "One ought to so bring up
women," said Siegfried, the champion, "that they omit all
unnecessary talk. Forbid it your wife. I will do the same with
mine. Really I am ashamed of such an arrogant custom."
Page 67, l. 22. "_Das hat mich_," etc.: "I repented it
immediately," said the noble woman. "On this account he beat my
body black and blue; because I talked too much he was disturbed
in his spirit: this did revenge the champion wise and good."
Page 69, l. 22 _Ritterschaft_: knighthood.
Page 71, l. 31. _Lette Verein_: Lette Association.
Page 72, l. 21. _Leipziger Allerlei_: a kind of mixed pickles.
Page 73, l. 25. _eine Stütze_: a helper for the housewife.
Page 78, l. 1. _Memoiren einer Idealistin_: Memoirs of an
Idealist.
Page 80, l. 24. _Schadchan_: Jewish business match-maker or
marriage broker.
Page 82, l. 8. _Aus guter Familie_: of good family.
Page 83, l. 15. _In freier Ehe_: in free love.
Page 85, l. 7. _Alte Schloss_: old castle.
Page 85, l. 8. _nicht wahr?_ is that not so?
Page 85, l. 26. _Ausflug_ or _Landpartie_: excursion trip in the
country.
Page 86, l. 13. "_Die Verlobung_," etc.: The engagement of their
daughter Pauline to Mr. Henry Schmidt, barrister Dr. jur., in
Berlin, is announced respectfully by Privy Counsellor of
Government Dr. Eugene Brand, Royal Director of Gymnase, and Mrs.
Helene, born Engel. Stuttgart, in June, 1906. 7 Tiergarten.
Page 86, l. 23. "_Meine Verlobung_," etc.: I have the honor
respectfully to announce my engagement with Miss Pauline Brand,
daughter of the Royal Director of Gymnase, Privy Counsellor of
Government Dr. Eugen Brand and his honorable wife Helene, born
Engel. Dr. jur. Heinrich Schmidt, barrister Referendar. Berlin,
in June, 1906. Kurfürstendam 2000.
Page 88, l. 2. _Brautpaar_: bride and bridegroom on the wedding
day, betrothed couple.
Page 88, l. 12. _Wilkommen, du glückseliges Kind_: Welcome, you
happy child.
Page 88, l. 15. _rührend_: touching.
Page 88, l. 15. _innig_: hearty, fervent.
Page 89, l. 16. _Aussteurer_: trousseau, also household endowment
of money.
Page 91, l. 2. "Wir winden dir":
THE FREE SHOOTER
The bridal wreath for thee we bind,
With silken thread of azure;
In wedded days, oh, mayst thou find
Full store of hope and pleasure.
I've planted thyme and myrtle sweet,
They grew in my garden;
But when shall I my true love meet,
How long will he delay yet?
Full seven years the maiden span,
The snow-white web augmenting;
The veil is clear like a web,
And green the wreath in her hair.
When lo! her true love came at last,
When seven years had passed,
Because her lover married her
She has deserved her wreath.
Page 94, l. 7. _Freie Trauungen_: free marriages.
Page 94, l. 20. _Sozialdemokratischer Verband_: society of
democratic socialists.
Page 98, l. 1. _Tafel-Lieder_: table songs.
Page 98, l. 22. _Hoch_: Hurrah.
Page 99, l. 8. _"Wie ist doch,"_ etc.:
How highly is the Uncle blest;
To-day the bridal wreath adorns the aunt.
Page 99, l. 11. "_Liebe Gäste_," etc.:
Dear guests, will you all
Arise with pleasure--
Hail to the bridal pair--
May they prosper.
Page 99, l. 25. _Hochzeits-Tafel_: wedding meal.
Page 101, l. 2. "_Geschiedene Leute scheiden fort und fort_":
divorced people sever forever.
Page 101, l. 14. _unwirtlichen_: inhospitable, barren.
Page 102, l. 11. "_Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch_": citizen's law book,
code.
Page 103, l. 10. _Wohnzimmer_: living room.
Page 104, l. 5. _Hof_: court; yard.
Page 105, l. 9. _Wie Herrlich_: how splendid.
Page 106, l. 26. _Füllofen_: stove, a self-feeder.
Page 109, l. 13. _Landeskirche_: National church.
Page 110, l. 7. _Nichtraucher_: no smoking allowed.
Page 110, l. 7. _Damen-Coupé_: for ladies only (in railway).
Page 110, l. 12. _Aber ich bitte, meine Dame: es zieht, ja, ja, es
zieht_: but please, madame, there is a draught, yes, yes, there
is a draught.
Page 112, l. 25. _Magen_: stomach.
Page 113, l. 24. _Mein armer Karl_: My poor Charles.
Page 113, l. 24. _Küken mit Spargel_: spring chicken with
asparagus.
Page 114, l. 13. _Frikassee von Hähnchen mit Krebsen_: fricassee
of chicken with crabs.
Page 114, l. 23. _perfekte Köchin_: experienced cook.
Page 116, l. 12. "_Dienen lerne_," etc.:
Early a woman should learn to serve, for that is her calling;
Since through service alone she finally comes to governing,
Comes to the due command that is hers of right in the household.
Early the sister must wait on her brother, and wait on her parents;
Life must be always with her a perpetual coming and going,
Or be a lifting and carrying, making and doing for others.
Happy for her be she accustomed to think no way is too grievous,
And if the hours of the night be to her as the hours of the daytime;
If she find never a needle too fine, nor a labour too trifling;
Wholly forgetful of self, and caring to live but in others!
Page 117, l. 31. "_Par une recontre_," etc.: "By a strange
chance," says Monsieur Taine, "women are more feminine and men
more masculine here than elsewhere. The two natures go to
extremes, the one to boldness, to a spirit of enterprise and
opposition, to a character that is warlike, imperious, and
rough; the other to gentleness, self-denial, patience,
inexhaustible affection. Here woman yields completely, a thing
unknown in foreign lands, especially in France, and looks upon
obedience, pardon, adoration as an honour and a duty, without
desiring or striving for anything beyond subordinating herself
and becoming daily more absorbed in him whom she has chosen of
her own accord and for all time. It is this instinct, an old
Germanic instinct, that those great delineators of instinct all
paint in a high light!... The spirit of this race is at once
primitive and serious. Among women simplicity lasts longer than
it does elsewhere. They are slower in losing respect, and in
weighing values and characters; they are less ready to suspect
evil and to analyse their husbands.... They have not the
cleverness, the advanced ideas, the assured behaviour, the
precocity which with us turns a young girl into a sophisticated
woman and a queen of society in six months. A secluded life and
obedience are easier for them. More yielding and more sedentary,
they are at once more reserved, more self-centred, more disposed
to gaze upon the noble dream that they call duty."
Page 118, l. 28. "_Voir la peinture_," etc.: "Depiction of this
character is to be seen in all English and German literature,"
he says in a footnote. "The closest of observers, Stendhal,
thoroughly impregnated with Italian and French ideas and
customs, is amazed at sight of it. He understands nothing of
this kind of devotion, 'of this slavery which English husbands
have had the cleverness to impose upon their wives under the
name of duty.' These are 'customs of the seraglio.'"
Page 121, l. 5. _lèse majesté_: high treason.
Page 124, l. 5. _ordentliche Frau_: respectable woman.
Page 127, l. 8. "_Mir ist ein Greuel_": it is a horror for me.
Page 127, l. 23. _Frau Wirklichergeheimerober regierungsrath_:
Mrs. privy chief counsellor of government.
Page 130, l. 26. _dumm_: silly, stupid.
Page 133, l. 22. _Tüchtigkeit_: capability.
Page 134, l. 7. "_Wie die Küche_," etc.: when the kitchen is
clean, the whole house is clean. Neat indoors, neat outdoors.
Page 134, l. 10. "_Trautes Heim_," etc.:
There is no place like home.
My home is my castle.
Page 141, l. 6. _Unsinn ... Quatsch_: nonsense, rubbish.
Page 141, l. 9. _Das hat keinen Zweck_: that is of no use.
Page 141, l. 27. _Herrschaft_: master and mistress and their
family.
Page 143, l. 21. _Gesinde-Dienstbuch_: servant's book of
reference.
For Anna Schmidt.
From Rheinbeck.
Age (geboren, born) June 20, 1885.
Stature, slender.
Eyes, gray.
Nose and mouth ordinary.
Hair, dark blond.
Especial characteristics.
---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------
NAME, VOCATION,| |DAY OF |DAY OF |REASON OF |CERTIFICATE
AND ADDRESS OF |BEARER IS |ENTERING|LEAVING|LEAVING-- |AND REMARKS
THE EMPLOYER |ACCEPTED AS|SERVICE |SERVICE|REFERENCE |OF POLICE
---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------
Widow Auguste |Servant |Oct. 20,|Jan. 2,|Wished a |Seen
Knoblauch | |1901 |1902 |change |(_Place and
| | | |Conduct | date, with
| | | |good |official
| | | | |stamp and
| | | | |signature_)
---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------
Boretzky, Post |Housemaid |Feb. 2, |Oct. 2,|Is dismissed|
Restaurant, 2 | |1902 |1904 |because of |
Bären Street | | | |unbecoming |
| | | |behaviour, |
| | | |but is |
| | | |diligent and|
| | | |honest |
---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------
Page 148, l. 3. _Speiseschrank_: pantry.
Page 151, l. 23. _Kammer_: little chamber.
Page 159, l. 11. _eine jute Jabe Jottes_: a good gift of God.
Page 164, l. 5. _Mehlspeise_: farinaceous dish.
Page 164, l. 5. _Spetzerle_: a sort of dumpling.
Page 164, l. 9. _Leibgericht_: favourite dish.
Page 164, l. 9. _Rote Grütze_: literally "red gruel."
Page 168, l. 7. _Torten_: tarts.
Page 169, l. 15. _Beamtenbeleidigung_: offence against an
official.
Page 170, l. 19. _Baumkuchen_: cake baked on a spit.
Page 179, l. 26. _Das Mädchen aus der Fremde_: the Strange Maiden.
Page 179, l. 27. _Der Tod und das Mädchen_: Death and the Maiden.
Page 180, l. 10. _gemütlich_: comfortable, agreeable, cosy.
Page 180, l. 25. _kräftige Kost_: nourishing food.
Page 181, l. 7. _Heuchelei_: hypocrisy.
Page 182, l. 22. _tüchtige Hausfrau_: experienced housewife.
Page 183, l. 12. _Gesellschaft_: society, a "party."
Page 183, l. 28. _Gott sei Dank_: God be thanked.
Page 183, l. 33. _Guten Tag_: good day.
Page 187, l. 22. _Steinkohlen_: mineral coal, anthracite.
Page 187, l. 22. _Braunkohlen_: lignite, brown coal.
Page 189, l. 8. _gehacktes Schweinefleisch_: choppy pork.
Page 195, l. 21. _Reform-Kleider_: reform dresses.
Page 195, l. 34. _Elles s'habillent si mal_: they dress so badly.
Page 200, l. 4. _Spruch_: motto.
Page 200, l. 16. _Meringuetorte_: pastry with whipped cream.
Page 201, l. 29. _Bowle_: punch.
Page 201, l. 33. _Kaffee-Klatsch mit Schleppe_ (train): a coffee
party in grand style.
Page 203, l. 16. _Gefrorenes_: ice cream.
Page 203, l. 35. _Pumpernickel_: Westphalian rye bread.
Page 207, l. 8. _Katzenjammer_: moral depression--the
blues--seediness after drunken debauch.
Page 207, l. 27. _Hier können Familien Kaffee kochen_: here
families are allowed to cook coffee.
Page 216, l. 17. _ein falsches Volk_: false people.
Page 222, l. 16. _Schenkwirte_: tavern keepers.
Page 223, l. 15. _Schoppen_: a pint.
Page 227, l. 3. _Oberkellner_: head waiter, head steward.
Page 231, l. I. _frisch angesteckt_: fresh on tap.
Page 231, l. 20. _Rindfleisch_: boiled beef.
Page 231, l. 26. _versoffene Jungfern_: drunken maidens.
Page 233, l. 1. _halbe Portion_: half a portion.
Page 233, l. 20. _Stimmung_: mood, humour.
Page 233, l. 27. _Das hat keinen Zweck_: of no use, end, etc.;
what difference does that make?
Page 234, l. i. _Verrückt_: crazy, mad.
Page 235, l. 16. _Schmorkartoffeln_: stewed potatoes baked in
butter.
Page 235, l. 28. _Pastetchen_: small pies, patties.
Page 237, l. 13. _Königstrasse_: King's Road.
Page 237, l. 14. _Herrschaften_: patrons.
Page 237, l. 23. _Delikatessenhandlung_: delicatessen shop.
Page 240, l. 3. _Spiritus leid' ich nicht_: I will not allow
alcohol.
Page 240, l. 29. _Trinkgeld_: tips.
Page 242, l. 10. _das beste Zimmer_: best room, salon.
Page 244, l. 8. _Das schadet nichts, das ist gesund_: never mind,
it is healthful.
Page 245, l. 27. _fremd_: strange.
Page 245, l. 33. _Reisebureau_: office of information for
travellers.
Page 246, l. 14. _anmelden_: announce, report.
Page 247, l. 13. _Ausgang_: exit.
Page 247, l. 14. _Eingang_: entrance.
Page 249, l. 10. _Dann war es mir zu bunt_: it was too much for
me, it goes too far.
Page 252, l. 6. _Verschönerungsverein_: society for
embellishments.
Page 252, l. 13. _Aussicht_: view.
Page 252, l. 13 _prachtvoll_: splendid.
Page 252, l. 13. _Luft herrlich_: lovely air.
Page 252, l. 16. _die Herren_: the gentlemen.
Page 253, l. 15. _wanderfroh_: fond of travelling.
Page 255, l. 13. _Badearzt_: physician of a watering place.
Page 255, l. 31. _eine gute Stunde_: a good hour's walk.
Page 257, l. 3. _Kur_: medical treatment.
Page 257, l. 5. _Badereise_: sojourn at a bathing place for the
benefit of the waters.
Page 258, l. 1. _Luftkur_: open air cure.
Page 258, l. 9. _Blutarmut_: anæmia.
Page 258, l. 18. _Corpulententisch_: table of the corpulents.
Page 259, l. 4. _Kegel_: ninepins.
Page 259, l. 17. _Waldluft_: forest air.
Page 259, l. 28. _Speisesaal_: dining room.
Page 260, l. 16. "_Warum willst_," etc.:
Why do you wander elsewhere
When happiness is so near?
Page 261, l. 25. _Personenzug_: local train.
Page 262, l. 16. _Schein_: bill, receipt.
Page 268, l. 17. _städtische Kleider_: city dress.
Page 268, l. 31. _Kirchweih_: annual festival in commemoration of
the consecration of church.
Page 269, l. 4. _Brautwagen_: wedding coach.
Page 270, l. 6. _Hochzeit_: wedding.
Page 270, l. 19. _belegtes Butterbrot_: sandwiches.
Page 271, l. 5. _Hochzeitsmahl_: wedding meal.
Page 271, l. 16. _Speisesaal_: dining room.
Page 277, l. 2. _Was ist denn los?_ what is the matter?
Page 278, l. 18. _Sehnsucht_: yearning.
Page 278, l. 21. _Haferbrei_: oat meal.
Page 279, l. 8. _Schmalz_: suet, lard.
Page 279, l. 11. _Pfarrer_: priest, clergyman, parson.
Page 279, l. 18. _Betten_: beds.
Page 279, l. 19. _Heidenmühle_: mill on the heath.
Page 279, l. 24. _Knecht_: manservant.
Page 291, l. 19. _Volksküche_: public kitchen.
Page 292, l. 2. _Tischzeit_: hours for meals.
Page 292, l. 6. _Durch Arbeiten_: through work.
Page 292, l. 16. _Der Kaufmännische Verband für Weibliche
Angestellte_: Merchant Association for Employed Women.
Page 298, l. 13. _Kurfürstendam_: elector's dyke.
Page 303, l. 1. _Zelten_: tents.
Page 305, l. 1. _Berliner Zimmer_: a room with one window.
Page 307, l. 5. _nichtssagend_: trifling, of little value.
Page 307, l. 12. _stramm_: robust, vigorous.
Page 307, l. 13. _kräftig_: strong, healthy, sturdy.
Page 307, l. 13. _hocherfreut_: delighted, highly pleased.
Page 310, l. 21. _Zeitungsgeschrei_: newspaper clamour.
Page 315, l. 8. _Reden sie nicht_: don't talk.
Page 318, l. 2. _Kultur_: culture.
Page 319, l. 22. _Damit hetzen wir die Juden_: therewith we stir
up the Jews.
Page 320, l. 33. _christlicher Umgang_: to be in company of
Christians.
Page 321, l. 5. _jüdischer Fratz_: Jewish phiz.
INDEX
Advertisements, 85, 307
Allotment gardens, 207
Anglophobia, 5, 119, 130, 184, 309-311
Art in the nursery, 11
Auerbach, 272-278
_Backfischen's Leiden und Freuden_, 38-43
Baden, 6, 22 (see also Black Forest)
_Badereise_, 255-260
Bathrooms, 103, 305
Bavaria, 228, 231, 258, 273, 275
Beds, 124, 229
Beggars, 276, 295
Berlin--
Electric cars, 300
Fire-brigade, 275
Flats and houses, 103-108
Fröbel Haus, 12
Ladies' clubs, 75
Philanthropy, 293
Registry offices, 142
Restaurants, 233
Sculptures, 297
Shops, 167-170, 174
Students, 57
Sunday excursions, 207
Taxes, 109
_Berliner Zimmer_, 305
_Bestes Zimmer_, 242
Betham-Edwards, Miss, 36
Betrothals, 85-91
_Bier Comment_, 54-56
Birmingham brass workers, 295
Black Forest, 162, 171, 205, 220, 267 ff., 276
_Brautpaar_, 87
Budgets, household, 187-194, 283
_Bürgerliches Gesetzbuch_, 102
_Burschenschaft_, 51
Byron, 38, 314
Cellar-shops, 170
Charlottenberg Forest School, 32
Christmas, 176
Church tax, 109
Confirmation, 78-80
Cooking classes, 72
_Corps-Studenten_, 51-53
Cotta, Frl. v., 21
Cottbus Market, 174
_Crêches_, 10, 33
_Dienstbuch_, 142-145
Divorce, 100
Doctors, 9, 31, 72, 295
Doecker system, 33
Drawing-rooms, 126
Drunkenness, 206
Duels, students', 51-53
Dyhrenfurth, Gertrud, 282
Economy, 130, 178, 188, 243, 287
Eltzbacher, O., 93, 185
Emigration, 185, 263
Emperor Wilhelm II., 70, 218, 220
Empress Friedrich, 21, 71
Family life, 61, 65, 128
_Flachsmann als Erzieher_, 17
Flats, 103, 123, 130, 304
Food--
Family meals, 154
Fish, 161
Free food, 31, 50
Goose, 162
Meat, 160
_Mehlspeisen_, 164, 231
_Nudeln_, 159
_Ochsenfleisch_, 155
Recipes, 159-165
_Rothe Grütze_, 164
Supper, 158, 203
Tea, 158
Vegetables, 163
Freiburg Market, 173
Fuel, 106, 187
Furniture, 123-126
"Garden houses," 304
Gardens, 104
"German Home Life," 8, 93
Gipsies, 276
Goethe, 116, 260
_Gymnasium_, 15-19
Gymnastics, 31, 34, 220
Hamburg--
Life, 105, 155, 232
Lodgings, 242
Markets, 174
Servants' dress, 138
Sports, 219
Heidelberg, 51-53
_Hof_, the, 104, 108
Home-workers, 289-291
Hospitality, 43, 196 ff., 210
Hospitals, 295
Housekeeping budgets, 187-194, 283
House-porter, 108, 303
_Idealistin, Memoiren einer_, 78, 125, 131, 139, 180, 212-214
Illegitimate children, 93, 294
Incomes, 48, 177;
and see Economy
Inns and Innkeepers, 227-232
Jews, 50, 80, 289, 319-321
_Joseph im Schnee_, 278-281
_Kaffee Klatsch_, 90, 200-202
_Kindergarten_, 12-14
_Kirchweih_, 273
Kitchens, 34, 107, 132-134, 146
_Kneipe_, 54-56, 64, 128
_Kommers_, 56
Ladies' clubs, 75-77
_Landes_ tax, 109
Lange, Frl. Helene, 22-27
Laundry work, 136
_Leipziger Messe_, 175
_Lette-Verein_, 71-75
Linen, 135-137
Lodgings, 237 ff.
Loeper-Housselle, Marie, 23
Luggage on railways, 261
Lyceum Club, 76
Lyceum, Victoria, 21
Marketing, 133-228
Markets, 173-176, 306
Marriage--
Arranged, 68, 80-82
Ceremony, 94 ff.
Proposal, 84
Revolt against, 66, 83
Münchhausen, Frau K., 167
Music, 31, 206, 303, 316
Newspapers, 307-312
Novels, 315
Nurseries, 9-11
Oberhof, 257
Opera, 209
Outdoor life, 222
Peasants' costume, 268
Dances, 272-274
Weddings, 269-272
Pensions, old age, 30, 150
Pestalozzi Fröbel Haus, 12
Philanthropy, 293-296
Police regulations, 108, 151, 169, 245-249
_Polterabend_, 92
Professors' salaries, 48
Prussia--
Cost of schools, 17
Free schools, 31
Taxes, 109
Railway travelling, 260-263
Religious teaching, 19
Religious belief, 211-216
Rents, 103
Restaurants, 233-235
Reuter, Gabrielle, 82
Riehl on women, 57 ff.
Ruegen, 257
_Salamander_, 56
Saxony, 108
Scenery, 250 ff.
Schadchan, 80
Schlegel, Caroline, 95
Schmidt, Auguste, 23
Schools--
Cost of, 17
Elementary, 29-31
Forest, 32-35
Kinds of, 16, 20, 22
Lessons, 18
Medical inspection, 31, 34
Music in, 31
Religious teaching in, 19
Servants--
Bedrooms, 151
Costumes, 10, 138, 183
Dances, 148
Gratuities, 145, 149
Meals, 147
Pensions, 150
Wages, 140, 145
Shadwell, Dr., 287
Shakespeare, 314
Shops--
Cellar, 170
In Berlin, 167-170
In Black Forest, 171
Silesian village, 282-285
Skittles, 222
Sofa, 126
Sports, winter, 220
State tax, 109
_Steckkissen_, 7
_Stifte_, 27, 69-71, 76
Stoves, 106-108
Students, 47 ff.
_Stütze der Hausfrau_, 73, 151
Summer resorts, 250 ff.
Sundays, 205 ff.
"Sweating," 289-291
Swimming-baths, 219
_Tafel-Lieder_, 97-99
Taine, M., 117, 149
Taxes, 108
Teachers' seminaries, 21
Theatres, 208-210, 312-314
Thuringia, 229, 276
Tidiness, 37, 128-130, 135, 306
Titles, 126
Toys, 11
_Trousseaux_, 89, 123, 140
Universities, 47 ff.
_Verein_, 221
Victoria Lyceum, 21
Viebig, Klara, 141, 170, 316
Village fires, 274-276
Visits, 196-200
_Volksküche_, 291
Walking tours, organised, 253
Weddings, 92 ff., 268-272
_Weibliche Angestellte_, 292
Wertheim, 167-170
_Wickelkinder_, 8
Windows, 105
Winter sports, 220
Women--
Dress, 154, 195
Legal position, 101
Modern, 66, 82-84
Riehl on, 57 ff.
Single, 60-62, 75, 81
Treatment of, 60, 63, 65, 117-122
Working, 287 ff.
* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
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| |
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| Page 71: '400,000 odd women' replaced with |
| '400,000-odd women' |
| Page 94: bridgroom replaced with bridegroom |
| Page 127: 'It it not easy' replaced with |
| 'It is not easy' |
| Page 141: knowledgable replaced with knowledgeable |
| Page 164: Rothe Grütze replaced with Rote Grütze |
| Page 184: extremly replaced with extremely |
| Page 191: 'fairly comfortably income' replaced with |
| 'fairly comfortable income' |
| Page 223: Braühaus replaced with Bräuhaus |
| Page 253: preceptions replaced with perceptions |
| Page 277: amazment replaced with amazement |
| Page 301: 'it is an autocracy or are public' replaced |
| with 'it is an autocracy or a republic' |
| Page 318: anti-Semit replaced with anti-Semite |
| Page 327: Burgerliches replaced with Bürgerliches |
| Page 330: Braunkolen replaced with Braunkohlen |
| Page 330: gahacktes replaced with gehacktes |
| Page 331: Delicatessenhandlung replaced with |
| Page 334: Dyrenfurth replaced with Dyhrenfurth |
| Page 336: 'Stüze der Hausfrau' replaced with |
| 'Stütze der Hausfrau' |
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| Page 336: Vereine replaced with Verein |
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| Weibliche Angestellte |
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+-----------------------------------------------------------+
End of Project Gutenberg's Home Life in Germany, by Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick