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same； namely； to retain the hose as a weapon with which to soak
Harris。 Of course； the result was that； between them； they soused
every dead and living thing within fifty yards； except themselves。
One furious man； too drenched to care what more happened to him；
leapt into the arena and also took a hand。 The three among them
proceeded to sweep the compass with that hose。 They pointed it to
heaven； and the water descended upon the people in the form of an
equinoctial storm。 They pointed it downwards； and sent the water
in rushing streams that took people off their feet； or caught them
about the waist line； and doubled them up。
Not one of them would loosen his grip upon the hose； not one of
them thought to turn the water off。 You might have concluded they
were struggling with some primeval force of nature。 In forty…five
seconds； so George said； who was timing it； they had swept that
circus bare of every living thing except one dog； who； dripping
like a water nymph； rolled over by the force of water； now on this
side； now on that； still gallantly staggered again and again to its
feet to bark defiance at what it evidently regarded as the powers
of hell let loose。
Men and women left their machines upon the ground； and flew into
the woods。 From behind every tree of importance peeped out wet；
angry heads。
At last； there arrived upon the scene one man of sense。 Braving
all things； he crept to the hydrant； where still stood the iron
key； and screwed it down。 And then from forty trees began to creep
more or less soaked human beings； each one with something to say。
At first I fell to wondering whether a stretcher or a clothes
basket would be the more useful for the conveyance of Harris's
remains back to the hotel。 I consider that George's promptness on
that occasion saved Harris's life。 Being dry； and therefore able
to run quicker； he was there before the crowd。 Harris was for
explaining things； but George cut him short。
〃You get on that；〃 said George； handing him his bicycle； 〃and go。
They don't know we belong to you； and you may trust us implicitly
not to reveal the secret。 We'll hang about behind； and get in
their way。 Ride zig…zag in case they shoot。〃
I wish this book to be a strict record of fact； unmarred by
exaggeration； and therefore I have shown my description of this
incident to Harris； lest anything beyond bald narrative may have
crept into it。 Harris maintains it is exaggerated； but admits that
one or two people may have been 〃sprinkled。〃 I have offered to
turn a street hose on him at a distance of five…and…twenty yards；
and take his opinion afterwards； as to whether 〃sprinkled〃 is the
adequate term； but he has declined the test。 Again； he insists
there could not have been more than half a dozen people； at the
outside； involved in the catastrophe； that forty is a ridiculous
misstatement。 I have offered to return with him to Hanover and
make strict inquiry into the matter； and this offer he has likewise
declined。 Under these circumstances； I maintain that mine is a
true and restrained narrative of an event that is； by a certain
number of Hanoverians； remembered with bitterness unto this very
day。
We left Hanover that same evening； and arrived at Berlin in time
for supper and an evening stroll。 Berlin is a disappointing town；
its centre over…crowded； its outlying parts lifeless； its one
famous street； Unter den Linden； an attempt to combine Oxford
Street with the Champs Elysee； singularly unimposing； being much
too wide for its size； its theatres dainty and charming； where
acting is considered of more importance than scenery or dress；
where long runs are unknown； successful pieces being played again
and again； but never consecutively； so that for a week running you
may go to the same Berlin theatre； and see a fresh play every
night； its opera house unworthy of it； its two music halls； with an
unnecessary suggestion of vulgarity and commonness about them； ill…
arranged and much too large for comfort。 In the Berlin cafes and
restaurants； the busy time is from midnight on till three。 Yet
most of the people who frequent them are up again at seven。 Either
the Berliner has solved the great problem of modern life； how to do
without sleep； or； with Carlyle； he must be looking forward to
eternity。
Personally； I know of no other town where such late hours are the
vogue； except St。 Petersburg。 But your St。 Petersburger does not
get up early in the morning。 At St。 Petersburg； the music halls；
which it is the fashionable thing to attend AFTER the theatrea
drive to them taking half an hour in a swift sleighdo not
practically begin till twelve。 Through the Neva at four o'clock in
the morning you have to literally push your way； and the favourite
trains for travellers are those starting about five o'clock in the
morning。 These trains save the Russian the trouble of getting up
early。 He wishes his friends 〃Good…night；〃 and drives down to the
station comfortably after supper； without putting the house to any
inconvenience。
Potsdam； the Versailles to Berlin； is a beautiful little town；
situate among lakes and woods。 Here in the shady ways of its
quiet； far…stretching park of Sans Souci； it is easy to imagine
lean； snuffy Frederick 〃bummeling〃 with shrill Voltaire。
Acting on my advice； George and Harris consented not to stay long
in Berlin； but to push on to Dresden。 Most that Berlin has to show
can be seen better elsewhere； and we decided to be content with a
drive through the town。 The hotel porter introduced us to a
droschke driver； under whose guidance； so he assured us； we should
see everything worth seeing in the shortest possible time。 The man
himself； who called for us at nine o'clock in the morning； was all
that could be desired。 He was bright； intelligent； and well…
informed； his German was easy to understand； and he knew a little
English with which to eke it out on occasion。 With the man himself
there was no fault to be found； but his horse was the most
unsympathetic brute I have ever sat behind。
He took a dislike to us the moment he saw us。 I was the first to
come out of the hotel。 He turned his head； and looked me up and
down with a cold； glassy eye； and then he looked across at another
horse； a friend of his that was standing facing him。 I knew what
he said。 He had an expressive head； and he made no attempt to
disguise his thought。
He said：
〃Funny things one does come across in the summer time； don't one？〃
George followed me out the next moment； and stood behind me。 The
horse again turned his head and looked。 I have never known a horse
that could twist himself as this horse did。 I have seen a
camelopard do trick's with his neck that compelled one's attention；
but this animal was more like the thing one dreams of after a dusty
days at Ascot； followed by a dinner with six old chums。 If I had
seen his eyes looking at me from between his own hind legs； I doubt
if I should have been surprised。 He seemed more amused with George
if anything； than with myself。 He turned to his friend again。
〃Extraordinary； isn't it？〃 he remarked； 〃I suppose there must be
some place where they grow them〃； and then he commenced licking
flies off his own left shoulder。 I began to wonder whether he had
lost his mother when young； and had been brought up by a cat。
George and I climbed in； and sat waiting for Harris。 He came a
moment later。 Myself； I thought he looked rather neat。 He wore a
white flannel knickerbocker suit； which he had had made specially
for bicycling in hot weather； his hat may have been a trifle out of
the common； but it did keep the sun off。
The horse gave one look at him； said 〃Gott in Himmel！〃 as plainly
as ever horse spoke； and started off down Friedrich Strasse at a
brisk walk； leaving Harris and the driver standing on the pavement。
His owner called to him to stop； but he took no notice。 They ran
after us； and overtook us at the corner of the Dorotheen Strasse。
I could not catch what the man said to the horse； he spoke quickly
and excitedly； but I gathered a few phrases； such as：
〃Got to earn my living somehow； haven't I？ Who asked for