GERMANY.
There was a great murmur and buzz of learning lessons; rows upon
rows of little boys were sitting before desks, studying; very few
heads looked up as Lucy found herself walking round the room--a
large clean room, with maps hanging on the walls, but hot and
weary-feeling, because there were no windows open and so little
fresh air.
"What are you about, little boy?" she asked.
"I am learning my verb," he said; "moneo, mones, monet."
Lucy waited no longer, but moved off to another desk. "And what are
you doing?"
"I am writing my analysis."
Lucy did not know what an analysis was, so she went a little further.
"What are you doing here?" she said timidly, for these were somewhat
bigger boys.
"We are writing an essay on the individuality of self."
That was enough to frighten any one away, and Lucy betook herself to
some quite little boys, with fat rosy faces and light hair. "Are
you busy, too?"
"Oh, yes; we are learning the chief cities of the Fatherland."
Lucy felt like the little boy in the fable, who could not get either
the dog, or the bird, or the bee, to play with him.
"When do you play?" she asked.
"We have an hour's interval after dinner, and another at supper-time,
but then we prepare our work for the morrow," said one of the boys,
looking up well satisfied.
"Work! work! Are you always at work?" exclaimed Lucy; "I only study
from nine to twelve, and half an hour to get my lessons in the
afternoon."
"You are a maiden," said the little boy with civil superiority;
"your brothers study more hours."
"More; yes, but not so many as you do. They play from twelve till
two, and have a holiday on Saturday."
"So, you are not industrious. We are. That is the reason why we
can all act together, and think together, so much better than any
others; and we all stand as one irresistible power, the United
Germany."
Lucy have a little gasp! it was all so very wise.
"May I see your sisters?" she said.
The little sisters, Gretchens and Katchens, were learning away
almost as hard as the Hermanns and Fritzes, but the bigger sisters
had what Lucy thought a better time of it. One of them was helping
in the kitchen, and another in the ironing; but then they had their
books and their music, and in the evening all the families came out
into the pleasure gardens, and had little tables with coffee before
them, and the mamma knitted, and the papas smoked, and the young
ladies listened to the band. On the whole, Lucy thought she should
not mind living in Germany, if they would not have so many lessons
to learn.