Made bold by an injudicious
mixture of Herr Knapf's excellent beer, and a wonderful
punch which Von Gerhard had concocted, Fritz mounted his
chair, placed his plump hand over the spot where he
supposed his heart to be, fastened his watery blue eyes
upon my surprised and blushing countenance, and sang
"Weh! Dass Wir Scheiden Mussen!" in an astonishingly
beautiful barytone. I dared not look at Von Gerhard, for
I knew that he was purple with suppressed mirth, so I
stared stonily at the sardine sandwich and dill pickle on
my plate, and felt myself growing hot and hysterical, and
cold and tearful by turns.
At the end of the last verse I rose hastily
and brought from their hiding-place the gifts which we of
Knapfs' had purchased as remembrances for Herr and Frau
Knapf. I had been delegated to make the presentation
speech, so I grasped in one hand the too elaborate pipe
that was to make Herr Knapf unhappy, and the too
fashionable silk umbrella that was to appall Frau Knapf,
and ascended the little platform at the end of the dining
room, and began to speak in what I fondly thought to be
fluent and highsounding German. Immediately the
aborigines went off into paroxysms of laughter.
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