The writer was on a Fulton ferry boat in the winter of 1857, when a
similar scene occurred. A German woman was taken in pain. A whisper was
passed to a female passenger; a policeman was summoned from outside the
ladies' (?) cabin; the male occupants were ejected,--even myself and
another medical student, and the husband of the patient. The latter
remonstrated, and demonstrated his objection to the momentary separation
by beating and shouting at the saloon door.
"Katharina! Katharina!" he shouted, "keep up a steef upper lips!"
This roaring attracted nearly all the men from the opposite side of the
boat, who crowded around him and the door, to learn the cause of the
Teutonic demonstrations of alternate fear, anger, and encouragement.
"Got in himmel! Vere you leefs ven you's t' home? Vich a man can't come
mit his vife, altogedder? Hopen de door, unt I preaks him mit mine feest;
don't it?" So he kept on, alternately cursing the policeman and
encouraging "Katharina," till we reached the Brooklyn side, and left the
ferry boat.
[Illustration]