Throughout their dealings with the people of Brussels the Germans
have found themselves time and again outwitted. Scarce a prohibition
has been framed which has not been countered on the instant by some
brilliant evasion that has rendered it not merely null and void, but
ridiculous as well. "_Verboten_," that fetish of the docile German
mind, succeeds only in stimulating the inventiveness of the witty
Bruxellois.
Exception was taken, for example, to the wording of certain
proclamations by the Burgomaster which had been put up on the walls
in various parts of the city, and the German authorities ordered that
sheets of white paper be pasted over them. The order was duly carried
out. Ere nightfall blameless blank sheets marked the spots where the
suppressed placards had previously figured. Next morning the sheets
were still there, blank as before, but hardly blameless. An oily sponge
had rendered them transparent during the night, and the censored
proclamations underneath were plainly visible for all who chose--and
there were many--to pause and ostentatiously read.
Again, the wearing of the Belgian national colours is forbidden. So
be it. Rosettes of red, black, and yellow ribbon are discarded; not a
favour adorns the decorous civilian buttonhole. But soon a new fashion
in attire appears upon the boulevards. A dandy is observed handsomely,
indeed strikingly, apparelled in yellow trousers, red vest, and black
coat. The mode quickly becomes popular, and soon it might almost be
said that for the patriotic Bruxellois "motley's the only wear." That
the motley in this case should comprise the Belgian national colours
is a coincidence which any wearer of it, one may be sure, would be
astonished to discover.
When last year the anniversary of that fateful fourth of August came
round, the Germans in Brussels, guilty of conscience, sought to
anticipate by prohibition all public reminiscence of the date. Their
feelings may be imagined when, on the morning of that significant
anniversary, they were greeted by the sight of a careless torn
"scrap of paper" thrust negligently through the buttonhole of every
Bruxellois. To frame an edict that would render _verboten_ such subtle
demonstrations as this would tax even the Teuton's encyclopædic
diligence.
A scrap of paper is not the only strange but meaning device which has
adorned the citizen's buttonhole in Brussels. On the day when Italy
joined the Allies, the Germans, in anticipation of that long-expected
event, had of their wisdom forbidden any display of the Italian colours
or flag. None appeared, but from out of those resourceful buttonholes
peeped neat rosettes and sprigs of macaroni.
If presently we learn that by order of the All-Highest every buttonhole
in Brussels is sewn up, it will hardly be matter for surprise. It would
be a charactertistic step.
Those ribbon favours have proved prickly thorns to the Germans. They
seem to act upon the Prussian mind as a red rag upon the bull, and
like the rag, when in the deft hands of a skilled _toriro_, they
frequently lure the victim to his own undoing. It happened once, soon
after the display of national colours had been prohibited, that a
Prussian officer, entering a Brussels tramcar, found himself seated
opposite a Belgian lady upon whose coat the forbidden red, black, and
yellow ribbons were flauntingly displayed. It is the custom of many
Belgian ladies, on finding themselves in a public vehicle with a German
officer, to quit their seats and stand on the conductor's platform
outside. Ruffled, perhaps, by the omission of this somewhat pointed
tribute to his presence, the intruder leaned forward and requested the
removal of the offending colours. The suggestion was greeted by a stony
stare, the demand which followed it by an expressive and provocative
shrug of the shoulders.
"If you will not take off those colours, madam, I shall remove them
myself."
This menace eliciting no response, the Prussian officer stretched forth
a Prussian fist and made a Prussian grab. The favour came away in his
clutch, but that was not the end of it. Within his fair antagonist's
dress ample lengths of ribbon were concealed, and the more the
discomfited officer pulled the more streamers of red, black, and yellow
reeled forth. It was a case literally of getting more than he bargained
for, and the charming murmur of thanks which he received when, in sheer
desperation, he dropped the tangle of ribbon on the floor and made
hastily for the door must have gratified that Prussian exceedingly.