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 Begin Reading

Table of Contents

About the Author

Copyright Page
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 A BRIEF NOTE FROM THE TRANSLATOR

Chinese and Korean names in this text are rendered with surnames first and
given names last, in accordance with the customs of these cultures. For
example, in the name “Yun Tianming,” YUN is the surname and
TIANMING is the given name.
CHARACTERS FROM THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM AND THE DARK FOREST
(Chinese names are written with surname first.)
Ye Physicist whose family was persecuted during the Cultural
Wenjie Revolution. She initiated contact with the Trisolarans and
precipitated the Trisolar Crisis.
Yang Physicist; daughter of Ye Wenjie.
Dong
Ding Yi Theoretical physicist and the first human to make contact
with the Trisolaran droplets; Yang Dong’s boyfriend.
Zhang Officer in the Asian Fleet who hijacked Natural Selection
Beihai during the Doomsday Battle, thus preserving a flicker of
hope for humanity during their darkest hour. Possibly one of
the first officers to understand the nature of dark battles.
Secretary UN secretary general during the Trisolar Crisis.
General
Say
Manuel Wallfacer; he proposed the giant hydrogen bomb plan as a
Rey Diaz defense against the Trisolarans.
Luo Ji Wallfacer; discoverer of the dark forest theory; creator of
dark forest deterrence.
 TABLE OF ERAS

Common Era Present–201X C.E.

Crisis Era 201X–2208
Deterrence Era 2208–2270
Post-Deterrence Era 2270–2272
Broadcast Era 2272–2332
Bunker Era 2333–2400
Galaxy Era 2273–unknown
Black Domain Era for DX3906 System 2687–18906416
Timeline for Universe 647 18906416– …
 Excerpt from the Preface to A Past Outside
of Time

I suppose this ought to be called history; but since all I can rely on is my
memory, it lacks the rigor of history.
It’s not even accurate to call it the past, for the events related in these
pages didn’t occur in the past, aren’t taking place now, and will not happen
in the future.
I don’t want to record the details. Only a frame, for a history or an
account of the past. The details that have been preserved are already
abundant. Sealed in floating bottles, they will hopefully reach the new
universe and endure there.
So I’ve written only a frame; someday, the frame may make it easier to
fill in all the specifics. Of course, that task won’t fall to us. I just hope such
a day will come for someone.
I regret that day didn’t exist in the past, doesn’t exist in the present, and
will not exist in the future.
I move the sun to the west, and as the angle of the light shifts, the
dewdrops on the seedlings in the field glisten like countless eyes suddenly
popping open. I dim the sun so that dusk arrives earlier; then I stare at the
silhouette of myself on the distant horizon, in front of the setting sun.
I wave at the silhouette; the silhouette waves back. Looking at the
shadow of myself, I feel young again.
This is a lovely time, just right for remembering.
PART I
 May 1453, C.E.
The Death of the Magician

Pausing to collect himself, Constantine XI pushed away the pile of city-

defense maps in front of him, pulled his purple robe tighter, and waited.
His sense of time was very accurate: The tremor came the moment he
expected it, a powerful, violent quake that seemed to originate from deep
within the earth. The vibrating silver candelabra hummed, and a wisp of
dust that had sat on top of the Great Palace for perhaps a thousand years fell
down and drifted into the candle flames, where the motes exploded in tiny
sparks.
Every three hours—the time it took the Ottomans to reload one of the
monstrous bombards designed by the engineer Orban—twelve-hundred-
pound stone balls battered the walls of Constantinople. These were the
world’s strongest walls: first built by Theodosius II during the fifth century,
they had been continually reinforced and expanded, and were the main
reason that the Byzantine court had survived so many powerful enemies.
But the giant stone balls now gouged openings into the walls with each
strike, like the bite of an invisible giant. The emperor could imagine the
scene: While the debris from the explosion filled the air, countless soldiers
and citizens rushed onto the fresh wound in the walls like a swarm of brave
ants under a sky full of dust. They filled in the break with whatever was at
hand: bits and pieces taken from other buildings in the city, flaxen-cloth
bags of earth, expensive Arabic carpets.… He could even imagine the cloud
of dust, steeped in the light of the setting sun, drifting slowly toward
Constantinople like a golden shroud.
During the five weeks the city had been under siege, these tremors had
come seven times a day, spaced as regularly as the strokes of some colossal
clock. This was the time and rhythm of another world, the time of heathens.
Compared to these tremors, the ringing of the double-headed eagle copper
clock in the corner that represented the time of Christendom seemed feeble.
The tremors subsided. After a while and with an effort, Emperor
Constantine pulled his thoughts back to the reality before him. He gestured
to let the guard know that he was ready for his visitor.
Phrantzes, one of the emperor’s most-trusted ministers, came in with a
slender, frail figure trailing close behind.
“This is Helena.” Phrantzes stepped aside, revealing the woman.
The emperor looked at her. The noblewomen of Constantinople tended to
favor clothes bedecked with elaborate decorative elements, while the
commoners wore plain, shapeless white garments that draped to the ankles.
But this Helena seemed a combination of both. Instead of a tunic
embroidered with gold thread, she wore a commoner’s white dress, but over
it she draped a luxurious cloak; however, instead of the purple and red
reserved for the nobility, the cloak was dyed yellow. Her face was
enchanting and sensual, bringing to mind a flower that would rather rot in
adoration than fade in solitude.
A prostitute, probably one who did rather well for herself.
Her body trembled. She kept her eyes lowered, but the emperor noticed
that they held a feverish glow, hinting at an excitement and zeal rare for her
class.
“You claim the powers of magic?” the emperor asked.
He wanted to conclude this audience as quickly as possible. Phrantzes
was usually meticulous. Of the approximately eight thousand soldiers
defending Constantinople now, only a small number came from the
standing army, and about two thousand were Genoese mercenaries.
Phrantzes had been responsible for recruiting the rest, a few at a time, from
the city’s inhabitants. Though the emperor wasn’t particularly interested in
his latest idea, the capable minister’s standing demanded that he at least be
given a chance.
“Yes, I can kill the sultan.” Helena’s quiet voice quivered like silk strands
in a breeze.
Five days earlier, standing in front of the palace, Helena had demanded to
see the emperor. When guards tried to push her away, she presented a small
package that stunned the guards. They weren’t sure what she was showing
them, but they knew it was not something she should have possessed.
Instead of being brought to the emperor, she had been held and interrogated
about how she had acquired the item. Her confession had been confirmed,
and she was then brought to Phrantzes.
Phrantzes now took out the small bundle, unwrapped the flax cloth, and
placed the contents on the emperor’s desk.
The emperor’s gaze was as stupefied as those of the soldiers five days
ago. But unlike them, he knew immediately what he was looking at.
More than nine centuries earlier, during the reign of Justinian the Great,
master craftsmen had cast two chalices out of pure gold, studded with gems
and glowing with a beauty that seized the soul. The two chalices were
identical save for the arrangement and shapes of the gems. One of the two
was kept by successive Byzantine emperors, and the other one had been
sealed along with other treasures into a secret chamber in the foundation of
Hagia Sophia in 537 C.E., when the great church was rebuilt.
The glow of the chalice in the Great Palace that the emperor was familiar
with had dulled with the passage of time, but the one in front of him now
looked so bright it could have been cast only yesterday.
No one had believed Helena’s confession at first, thinking that she had
probably stolen the chalice from one of her rich patrons. Although many
knew of the secret chamber under the great church, few knew its exact
location. Moreover, the secret chamber was nestled among the giant stones
deep in the foundation, and there were no doors or tunnels leading to it. It
should have been impossible to enter the chamber without a massive
engineering effort.
Four days ago, however, the emperor had ordered the precious artifacts of
the city collected in case of Constantinople’s fall. It was really a desperate
measure, as he understood very well that the Turks had cut off all routes
leading to the city, and there would be nowhere for him to escape with the
treasures.
It had taken thirty laborers working nonstop for three days to enter the
secret chamber, whose walls were formed from stones as massive as those
in the Great Pyramid of Cheops. In the middle of the chamber was a
massive stone sarcophagus sealed shut with twelve thick, crisscrossing iron
hoops. It took most of another day to saw through the iron hoops before five
laborers, under the gaze of many guards, finally managed to lift the cover
off the sarcophagus.
The onlookers were amazed not by the treasures and sacred objects that
had been hidden for almost a thousand years, but by the bunch of grapes
placed on top, still fresh.
Helena had claimed to have left a bunch of grapes in the sarcophagus five
days ago, and as she had declared, half of the grapes had been eaten, with
only seven left on the stem.
The workers compared the treasures they recovered against the listing
found on the inside of the cover of the stone sarcophagus; everything was
accounted for except the chalice. If the chalice hadn’t already been found
with Helena, and without her testimony, everyone present would have been
put to death even if they all swore that the secret chamber and the
sarcophagus appeared intact.
“How did you retrieve this?” the emperor asked.
Helena’s body trembled even harder. Apparently, her magic did not make
her feel safe. She stared at the emperor with terror-filled eyes, and squeezed
out an answer. “Those places … I see them … I see them as…” She
struggled to find the right word. “… open.…”
“Can you demonstrate for me? Take out something from inside a sealed
container.”
Helena shook her head, dread stilling her tongue; she looked to Phrantzes
for help.
Phrantzes spoke up. “She says that she can only practice her magic in a
specific place. But she can’t reveal the location, and no one must be
allowed to follow her. Otherwise the magic will lose its power forever.”
Helena nodded vigorously.
“In Europe, you would already have been burned at a stake,” the emperor
said.
Helena collapsed to the ground and hugged herself. Her small figure
looked like a child’s.
“Do you know how to kill?” the emperor pressed.
But Helena only trembled. After repeated urgings from Phrantzes, she
finally nodded.
“Fine,” the emperor said to Phrantzes. “Test her.”

***
Phrantzes led Helena down a long flight of stairs. Torches in sconces along
the way cast dim circles of light. Under every torch stood two armed
soldiers whose armor reflected the light onto the walls in lively, flickering
patterns.
 Finally, the two arrived at a dark cellar. Helena pulled her cloak tighter
around her. This was where the palace stored ice for use during the
summers.
The cellar held no ice now. A prisoner squatted under the torch in the
corner; an Anatolian officer, based on the way he was dressed. His fierce
eyes, like a wolf’s, glared at Phrantzes and Helena through the iron bars.
“You see him?” Phrantzes asked.
Helena nodded.
Phrantzes handed her a sheepskin bag. “You may leave now. Return with
his head before dawn.”
Helena took out a scimitar from the bag, glinting in the torchlight like a
crescent moon. She handed it back to Phrantzes. “I don’t need this.”
Then she ascended the stairs, her footfalls making no sound. As she
passed through the circles of light cast by the torches, she seemed to change
shape—sometimes a woman, sometimes a cat—until her figure
disappeared.
Phrantzes turned to one of the officers: “Increase the security around
here.” He pointed to the prisoner. “Keep him under constant observation.”
After the officer left, Phrantzes waved his hand, and a man emerged from
the darkness, draped in the black robes of a friar.
“Don’t get too close,” Phrantzes said. “It’s all right if you lose her, but do
not under any circumstances let her discover you.”
The friar nodded and ascended the stairs as silently as Helena had.

***
That night, Constantine slept no better than he had since the siege of
Constantinople began: The jolts from the heavy bombards woke him each
time, just as he was about to fall asleep. Before dawn, he went into his
study, where he found Phrantzes waiting for him.
He had already forgotten about the witch. Unlike his father, Manuel II,
and elder brother, John VIII, Constantine was practical and understood that
those who put all their faith in miracles tended to meet with untimely ends.
Phrantzes beckoned at the door, and Helena entered noiselessly. She
looked as frightened as the last time the emperor had seen her, and her hand
shook as she lifted the sheepskin bag.
As soon as Constantine saw the bag, he knew that he had wasted his
time. The bag was flat, and no blood seeped from it. It clearly didn’t contain
 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
 “Confound it, that boy has lied again. This is not the right 166; this
is not B. B. Now, Wicklow, you will find the correct 166 for us, or—
hello! where is that boy?”
Gone, as sure as guns! And, what is more, we failed to find a trace
of him. Here was an awkward predicament. I cursed my stupidity in
not tying him to one of the men; but it was of no use to bother about
that now. What should I do in the present circumstances?—that was
the question. That girl might be B. B., after all. I did not believe it,
but still it would not answer to take unbelief for proof. So I finally put
my men in a vacant room across the hall from 166, and told them to
capture anybody and everybody that approached the girl’s room, and
to keep the landlord with them, and under strict watch, until further
orders. Then I hurried back to the fort to see if all was right there yet.
Yes, all was right. And all remained right. I stayed up all night to
make sure of that. Nothing happened. I was unspeakably glad to see
the dawn come again, and be able to telegraph the Department that
the Stars and Stripes still floated over Fort Trumbull.
An immense pressure was lifted from my breast. Still I did not
relax vigilance, of course, nor effort either; the case was too grave for
that. I had up my prisoners, one by one, and harried them by the
hour, trying to get them to confess, but it was a failure. They only
gnashed their teeth and tore their hair, and revealed nothing.
About noon came tidings of my missing boy. He had been seen on
the road, tramping westward, some eight miles out, at six in the
morning. I started a cavalry lieutenant and a private on his track at
once. They came in sight of him twenty miles out. He had climbed a
fence and was wearily dragging himself across a slushy field toward a
large old-fashioned mansion in the edge of a village. They rode
through a bit of woods, made a detour, and closed up on the house
from the opposite side; then dismounted and skurried into the
kitchen. Nobody there. They slipped into the next room, which was
also unoccupied; the door from that room into the front or sitting-
room was open. They were about to step through it when they heard
a low voice; it was somebody praying. So they halted reverently, and
the lieutenant put his head in and saw an old man and an old woman
kneeling in a corner of that sitting-room. It was the old man that was
praying, and just as he was finishing his prayer, the Wicklow boy
opened the front door and stepped in. Both of those old people
sprang at him and smothered him with embraces, shouting,—
“Our boy! our darling! God be praised. The lost is found! He that
was dead is alive again!”
Well, sir, what do you think! That young imp was born and reared
on that homestead, and had never been five miles away from it in all
his life, till the fortnight before he loafed into my quarters and gulled
me with that maudlin yarn of his! It’s as true as gospel. That old man
was his father—a learned old retired clergyman; and that old lady
was his mother.
Let me throw in a word or two of explanation concerning that boy
and his performances. It turned out that he was a ravenous devourer
of dime novels and sensation-story papers—therefore, dark mysteries
and gaudy heroisms were just in his line. Then he had read
newspaper reports of the stealthy goings and comings of rebel spies
in our midst, and of their lurid purposes and their two or three
startling achievements, till his imagination was all aflame on that
subject. His constant comrade for some months had been a Yankee
youth of much tongue and lively fancy, who had served for a couple
of years as “mud clerk” (that is, subordinate purser) on certain of the
packet-boats plying between New Orleans and points two or three
hundred miles up the Mississippi—hence his easy facility in handling
the names and other details pertaining to that region. Now I had
spent two or three months in that part of the country before the war;
and I knew just enough about it to be easily taken in by that boy,
whereas a born Louisianian would probably have caught him
tripping before he had talked fifteen minutes. Do you know the
reason he said he would rather die than explain certain of his
treasonable enigmas? Simply because he couldn’t explain them!—
they had no meaning; he had fired them out of his imagination
without forethought or afterthought; and so, upon sudden call, he
wasn’t able to invent an explanation of them. For instance, he
couldn’t reveal what was hidden in the “sympathetic ink” letter, for
the ample reason that there wasn’t anything hidden in it; it was blank
paper only. He hadn’t put anything into a gun, and had never
intended to—for his letters were all written to imaginary persons,
and when he hid one in the stable he always removed the one he had
put there the day before; so he was not acquainted with that knotted
string, since he was seeing it for the first time when I showed it to
him; but as soon as I had let him find out where it came from, he
straightway adopted it, in his romantic fashion, and got some fine
effects out of it. He invented Mr. “Gaylord;” there wasn’t any 15 Bond
Street, just then—it had been pulled down three months before. He
invented the “Colonel;” he invented the glib histories of those
unfortunates whom I captured and confronted with him; he invented
“B. B.;” he even invented No. 166, one may say, for he didn’t know
there was such a number in the Eagle Hotel until we went there. He
stood ready to invent anybody or anything whenever it was wanted.
If I called for “outside” spies, he promptly described strangers whom
he had seen at the hotel, and whose names he had happened to hear.
Ah, he lived in a gorgeous, mysterious, romantic world during those
few stirring days, and I think it was real to him, and that he enjoyed
it clear down to the bottom of his heart.
But he made trouble enough for us, and just no end of humiliation.
You see, on account of him we had fifteen or twenty people under
arrest and confinement in the fort, with sentinels before their doors.
A lot of the captives were soldiers and such, and to them I didn’t have
to apologize; but the rest were first-class citizens, from all over the
country, and no amount of apologies was sufficient to satisfy them.
They just fumed and raged and made no end of trouble! And those
two ladies,—one was an Ohio Congressman’s wife, the other a
Western bishop’s sister,—well, the scorn and ridicule and angry tears
they poured out on me made up a keepsake that was likely to make
me remember them for a considerable time,—and I shall. That old
lame gentleman with the goggles was a college president from
Philadelphia, who had come up to attend his nephew’s funeral. He
had never seen young Wicklow before, of course. Well, he not only
missed the funeral, and got jailed as a rebel spy, but Wicklow had
stood up there in my quarters and coldly described him as a
counterfeiter, nigger-trader, horse-thief, and fire-bug from the most
notorious rascal-nest in Galveston; and this was a thing which that
poor old gentleman couldn’t seem to get over at all.
And the War Department! But, O my soul, let’s draw the curtain
over that part!
 Note.—I showed my manuscript to the Major, and he said: “Your unfamiliarity
with military matters has betrayed you into some little mistakes. Still, they are
picturesque ones—let them go; military men will smile at them, the rest won’t
detect them. You have got the main facts of the history right, and have set them
down just about as they occurred.”—M. T.
 MRS. McWILLIAMS AND THE LIGHTNING.

W ell, sir,—continued Mr. McWilliams, for this was not the

beginning of his talk;—the fear of lightning is one of the most
distressing infirmities a human being can be afflicted with. It is
mostly confined to women; but now and then you find it in a little
dog, and sometimes in a man. It is a particularly distressing
infirmity, for the reason that it takes the sand out of a person to an
extent which no other fear can, and it can’t be reasoned with, and
neither can it be shamed out of a person. A woman who could face
the very devil himself—or a mouse—loses her grip and goes all to
pieces in front of a flash of lightning. Her fright is something pitiful
to see.
Well, as I was telling you, I woke up, with that smothered and
unlocatable cry of “Mortimer! Mortimer!” wailing in my ears; and as
soon as I could scrape my faculties together I reached over in the
dark and then said,—
“Evangeline, is that you calling? What is the matter? Where are
you?”
“Shut up in the boot-closet. You ought to be ashamed to lie there
and sleep so, and such an awful storm going on.”
“Why, how can one be ashamed when he is asleep? It is
unreasonable; a man can’t be ashamed when he is asleep,
Evangeline.”
“You never try, Mortimer,—you know very well you never try.”
I caught the sound of muffled sobs.
That sound smote dead the sharp speech that was on my lips, and I
changed it to—
“I’m sorry, dear,—I’m truly sorry. I never meant to act so. Come
back and—”
 “Mortimer!”
“Heavens! what is the matter, my love?”
“Do you mean to say you are in that bed yet?”
“Why, of course.”
“Come out of it instantly. I should think you would take some little
care of your life, for my sake and the children’s, if you will not for
your own.”
“But my love—”
“Don’t talk to me, Mortimer. You know there is no place so
dangerous as a bed, in such a thunder-storm as this,—all the books
say that; yet there you would lie, and deliberately throw away your
life,—for goodness knows what, unless for the sake of arguing and
arguing, and—”
“But, confound it, Evangeline, I’m not in the bed, now. I’m—”
[Sentence interrupted by a sudden glare of lightning, followed by a
terrified little scream from Mrs. McWilliams and a tremendous blast
of thunder.]
“There! You see the result. Oh, Mortimer, how can you be so
profligate as to swear at such a time as this?”
“I didn’t swear. And that wasn’t a result of it, any way. It would
have come, just the same, if I hadn’t said a word; and you know very
well, Evangeline,—at least you ought to know,—that when the
atmosphere is charged with electricity—”
“Oh, yes, now argue it, and argue it, and argue it!—I don’t see how
you can act so, when you know there is not a lightning-rod on the
place, and your poor wife and children are absolutely at the mercy of
Providence. What are you doing?—lighting a match at such a time as
this! Are you stark mad?”
“Hang it, woman, where’s the harm? The place is as dark as the
inside of an infidel, and—”
“Put it out! put it out instantly! Are you determined to sacrifice us
all? You know there is nothing attracts lightning like a light. [Fzt!—
crash! boom—boloom-boom-boom!] Oh, just hear it! Now you see
what you’ve done!”
“No, I don’t see what I’ve done. A match may attract lightning, for
all I know, but it don’t cause lightning,—I’ll go odds on that. And it
didn’t attract it worth a cent this time; for if that shot was levelled at
my match, it was blessed poor marksmanship,—about an average of
none out of a possible million, I should say. Why, at Dollymount,
such marksmanship as that—”
“For shame, Mortimer! Here we are standing right in the very
presence of death, and yet in so solemn a moment you are capable of
using such language as that. If you have no desire to—Mortimer!”
“Well?”
“Did you say your prayers to-night?”
“I—I—meant to, but I got to trying to cipher out how much twelve
times thirteen is, and—”
[Fzt!—boom-berroom-boom! bumble-umble bang-SMASH!]
“Oh, we are lost, beyond all help! How could you neglect such a
thing at such a time as this?”
“But it wasn’t ‘such a time as this.’ There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
How could I know there was going to be all this rumpus and powwow
about a little slip like that? And I don’t think it’s just fair for you to
make so much out of it, any way, seeing it happens so seldom; I
haven’t missed before since I brought on that earthquake, four years
ago.”
“Mortimer! How you talk! Have you forgotten the yellow fever?”
“My dear, you are always throwing up the yellow fever to me, and I
think it is perfectly unreasonable. You can’t even send a telegraphic
message as far as Memphis without relays, so how is a little
devotional slip of mine going to carry so far? I’ll stand the
earthquake, because it was in the neighborhood; but I’ll be hanged if
I’m going to be responsible for every blamed—”
[Fzt!—BOOM beroom-boom! boom!—BANG!]
“Oh, dear, dear, dear! I know it struck something, Mortimer. We
never shall see the light of another day; and if it will do you any good
to remember, when we are gone, that your dreadful language—
Mortimer!”
“Well! What now?”
“Your voice sounds as if— Mortimer, are you actually standing in
front of that open fireplace?”
“That is the very crime I am committing.”
 “Get away from it, this moment. You do seem determined to bring
destruction on us all. Don’t you know that there is no better
conductor for lightning than an open chimney? Now where have you
got to?”
“I’m here by the window.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, have you lost your mind? Clear out from there,
this moment. The very children in arms know it is fatal to stand near
a window in a thunder-storm. Dear, dear, I know I shall never see the
light of another day. Mortimer?”
“Yes?”
“What is that rustling?”
“It’s me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to find the upper end of my pantaloons.”
“Quick! throw those things away! I do believe you would
deliberately put on those clothes at such a time as this; yet you know
perfectly well that all authorities agree that woolen stuffs attract
lightning. Oh, dear, dear, it isn’t sufficient that one’s life must be in
peril from natural causes, but you must do everything you can
possibly think of to augment the danger. Oh, don’t sing! What can
you be thinking of?”
“Now where’s the harm in it?”
“Mortimer, if I have told you once, I have told you a hundred
times, that singing causes vibrations in the atmosphere which
interrupt the flow of the electric fluid, and—What on earth are you
opening that door for?”
“Goodness gracious, woman, is there is any harm in that?”
“Harm? There’s death in it. Anybody that has given this subject
any attention knows that to create a draught is to invite the lightning.
You haven’t half shut it; shut it tight,—and do hurry, or we are all
destroyed. Oh, it is an awful thing to be shut up with a lunatic at such
a time as this. Mortimer, what are you doing?”
“Nothing. Just turning on the water. This room is smothering hot
and close. I want to bathe my face and hands.”
“You have certainly parted with the remnant of your mind! Where
lightning strikes any other substance once, it strikes water fifty
times. Do turn it off. Oh, dear, I am sure that nothing in this world
can save us. It does seem to me that—Mortimer, what was that?”
“It was a da—it was a picture. Knocked it down.”
“Then you are close to the wall! I never heard of such imprudence!
Don’t you know that there’s no better conductor for lightning than a
wall? Come away from there! And you came as near as anything to
swearing, too. Oh, how can you be so desperately wicked, and your
family in such peril? Mortimer, did you order a feather bed, as I
asked you to do?”
“No. Forgot it.”
“Forgot it! It may cost you your life. If you had a feather bed, now,
and could spread it in the middle of the room and lie on it, you would
be perfectly safe. Come in here,—come quick, before you have a
chance to commit any more frantic indiscretions.”
I tried, but the little closet would not hold us both with the door
shut, unless we could be content to smother. I gasped awhile, then
forced my way out. My wife called out,—
“Mortimer, something must be done for your preservation. Give
me that German book that is on the end of the mantel-piece, and a
candle; but don’t light it; give me a match; I will light it in here. That
book has some directions in it.”
I got the book,—at cost of a vase and some other brittle things; and
the madam shut herself up with her candle. I had a moment’s peace;
then she called out,—
“Mortimer, what was that?”
“Nothing but the cat.”
“The cat! Oh, destruction! Catch her, and shut her up in the wash-
stand. Do be quick, love; cats are full of electricity. I just know my
hair will turn white with this night’s awful perils.”
I heard the muffled sobbings again. But for that, I should not have
moved hand or foot in such a wild enterprise in the dark.
However, I went at my task,—over chairs, and against all sorts of
obstructions, all of them hard ones, too, and most of them with sharp
edges,—and at last I got kitty cooped up in the commode, at an
expense of over four hundred dollars in broken furniture and shins.
Then these muffled words came from the closet:—
 “It says the safest thing is to stand on a chair in the middle of the
room, Mortimer; and the legs of the chair must be insulated, with
non-conductors. That is, you must set the legs of the chair in glass
tumblers. [Fzt!—boom—bang!—smash!] Oh, hear that! Do hurry,
Mortimer, before you are struck.”
I managed to find and secure the tumblers. I got the last four,—
broke all the rest. I insulated the chair legs, and called for further
instructions.
“Mortimer, it says, ‘Während eines Gewitters entferne man
Metalle, wie z. B., Ringe, Uhren, Schlüssel, etc., von sich und halte
sich auch nicht an solchen Stellen auf, wo viele Metalle bei einander
liegen, oder mit andern Körpern verbunden sind, wie an Herden,
Oefen, Eisengittern u. dgl.’ What does that mean, Mortimer? Does it
mean that you must keep metals about you, or keep them away from
you?”
“Well, I hardly know. It appears to be a little mixed. All German
advice is more or less mixed. However, I think that that sentence is
mostly in the dative case, with a little genitive and accusative sifted
in, here and there, for luck; so I reckon it means that you must keep
some metals about you.”
“Yes, that must be it. It stands to reason that it is. They are in the
nature of lightning-rods, you know. Put on your fireman’s helmet,
Mortimer; that is mostly metal.”
I got it and put it on,—a very heavy and clumsy and uncomfortable
thing on a hot night in a close room. Even my night-dress seemed to
be more clothing than I strictly needed.
“Mortimer, I think your middle ought to be protected. Won’t you
buckle on your militia sabre, please?”
I complied.
“Now, Mortimer, you ought to have some way to protect your feet.
Do please put on your spurs.”
I did it,—in silence,—and kept my temper as well as I could.
“Mortimer, it says, ‘Das Gewitter läuten ist sehr gefährlich, weil die
Glocke selbst, sowie der durch das Läuten veranlasste Luftzug und
die Höhe des Thurmes den Blitz anziehen könnten.’ Mortimer, does
that mean that it is dangerous not to ring the church bells during a
thunder-storm?”
 “Yes, it seems to mean that,—if that is the past participle of the
nominative case singular, and I reckon it is. Yes, I think it means that
on account of the height of the church tower and the absence of
Luftzug it would be very dangerous (sehr gefährlich) not to ring the
bells in time of a storm; and moreover, don’t you see, the very
wording—”
“Never mind that, Mortimer; don’t waste the precious time in talk.
Get the large dinner-bell; it is right there in the hall. Quick, Mortimer
dear; we are almost safe. Oh, dear, I do believe we are going to be
saved, at last!”
Our little summer establishment stands on top of a high range of
hills, overlooking a valley. Several farm-houses are in our
neighborhood,—the nearest some three or four hundred yards away.
When I, mounted on the chair, had been clanging that dreadful
bell a matter of seven or eight minutes, our shutters were suddenly
torn open from without, and a brilliant bull’s-eye lantern was thrust
in at the window, followed by a hoarse inquiry:—
“What in the nation is the matter here?”
The window was full of men’s heads, and the heads were full of
eyes that stared wildly at my night-dress and my warlike
accoutrements.
I dropped the bell, skipped down from the chair in confusion, and
said,—
“There is nothing the matter, friends,—only a little discomfort on
account of the thunder-storm. I was trying to keep off the lightning.”
“Thunder-storm? Lightning? Why, Mr. McWilliams, have you lost
your mind? It is a beautiful starlight night; there has been no storm.”
I looked out, and I was so astonished I could hardly speak for a
while. Then I said,—
“I do not understand this. We distinctly saw the glow of the flashes
through the curtains and shutters, and heard the thunder.”
One after another of those people lay down on the ground to laugh,
—and two of them died. One of the survivors remarked,—
“Pity you didn’t think to open your blinds and look over to the top
of the high hill yonder. What you heard was cannon; what you saw
was the flash. You see, the telegraph brought some news, just at
midnight: Garfield’s nominated,—and that’s what’s the matter!”
Yes, Mr. Twain, as I was saying in the beginning (said Mr.
McWilliams), the rules for preserving people against lightning are so
excellent and so innumerable that the most incomprehensible thing
in the world to me is how anybody ever manages to get struck.
So saying, he gathered up his satchel and umbrella, and departed;
for the train had reached his town.

[Explanatory. I regard the idea of this play as a valuable

invention. I call it the Patent Universally-Applicable Automatically-
Adjustable Language Drama. This indicates that it is adjustable to
any tongue, and performable in any tongue. The English portions of
the play are to remain just as they are, permanently; but you change
the foreign portions to any language you please, at will. Do you see?
You at once have the same old play in a new tongue. And you can
keep on changing it from language to language, until your private
theatrical pupils have become glib and at home in the speech of all
nations. Zum Beispiel, suppose we wish to adjust the play to the
French tongue. First, we give Mrs. Blumenthal and Gretchen French
names. Next, we knock the German Meisterschaft sentences out of
the first scene, and replace them with sentences from the French
Meisterschaft-like this, for instance; “Je voudrais faire des emplettes
ce matin; voulez-vous avoir l’obligeance de venir avec moi chez le
tailleur français?” And so on. Wherever you find German, replace it
with French, leaving the English parts undisturbed. When you come
to the long conversation in the second act, turn to any pamphlet of
your French Meisterschaft, and shovel in as much French talk on any
subject as will fill up the gaps left by the expunged German. Example
—page 423 French Meisterschaft:
 On dirait qu’il va faire chaud.
J’ai chaud.
J’ai extrêmement chaud.
Ah! qu’il fait chaud!
Il fait une chaleur étouffante!
L’air est brûlant.
Je meurs de chaleur.
Il est presque impossible de supporter la chaleur.
Cela vous fait transpirer.
Mettons nous à l’ombre.
Il fait du vent.
Il fait un vent froid.
Il fait un temps très-agréable pour se promener aujourd’hui.

And so on, all the way through. It is very easy to adjust the play to
any desired language. Anybody can do it.]
MEISTERSCHAFT: IN THREE ACTS.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ:
Mr. Stephenson.
Margaret Stephenson.
George Franklin.
Annie Stephenson.
William Jackson.
Mrs. Blumenthal, the Wirthin.
Gretchen,
Kellnerin.
 ACT I.

SCENE I.

Scene of the play, the parlor of a small private dwelling in a village.

Margaret. (Discovered crocheting—has a pamphlet.)

Margaret. (Solus.) Dear, dear! it’s dreary enough, to have to study
this impossible German tongue: to be exiled from home and all
human society except a body’s sister in order to do it, is just simply
abscheulich. Here’s only three weeks of the three months gone, and it
seems like three years. I don’t believe I can live through it, and I’m
sure Annie can’t.
(Refers to her book, and rattles through, several times, like one
memorizing:) Entschuldigen Sie, mein Herr, können Sie mir
vielleicht sagen, um wie viel Uhr der erste Zug nach Dresden abgeht?
(Makes mistakes and corrects them.) I just hate Meisterschaft! We
may see people; we can have society: yes, on condition that the
conversation shall be in German, and in German only—every single
word of it! Very kind—oh, very! when neither Annie nor I can put
two words together, except as they are put together for us in
Meisterschaft or that idiotic Ollendorff! (Refers to book, and
memorizes: Mein Bruder hat Ihren Herrn Vater nicht gesehen, als
er gestern in dem Laden des deutschen Kaufmannes war.) Yes, we
can have society, provided we talk German. What would such a
conversation be like! If you should stick to Meisterschaft, it would
change the subject every two minutes; and if you stuck to Ollendorff,
it would be all about your sister’s mother’s good stocking of thread,
or your grandfather’s aunt’s good hammer of the carpenter, and
who’s got it, and there an end. You couldn’t keep up your interest in
such topics. (Memorizing: Wenn irgend möglich,—möchte ich noch
heute Vormittag dort ankommen, da es mir sehr daran gelegen ist,
einen meiner Geschäftsfreunde zu treffen.) My mind is made up to
one thing: I will be an exile, in spirit and in truth: I will see no one
during these three months. Father is very ingenious—oh, very! thinks
he is, anyway. Thinks he has invented a way to force us to learn to
speak German. He is a dear good soul, and all that; but invention
isn’t his fash’. He will see. (With eloquent energy.) Why, nothing in
the world shall—Bitte, können Sie mir vielleicht sagen, ob Herr
Schmidt mit diesem Zuge angekommen ist? Oh, dear, dear George—
three weeks! It seems a whole century since I saw him. I wonder if he
suspects that I—that I—care for him——j—just a wee, wee bit? I
believe he does. And I believe Will suspects that Annie cares for him
a little, that I do. And I know perfectly well that they care for us. They
agree with all our opinions, no matter what they are; and if they have
a prejudice, they change it, as soon as they see how foolish it is. Dear
George! at first he just couldn’t abide cats; but now, why now he’s
just all for cats; he fairly welters in cats. I never saw such a reform.
And it’s just so with all his principles: he hasn’t got one that he had
before. Ah, if all men were like him, this world would——
(Memorizing: Im Gegentheil, mein Herr, dieser Stoff is sehr billig.
Bitte, sehen Sie sich nur die Qualität an.) Yes, and what did they go
to studying German for, if it wasn’t an inspiration of the highest and
purest sympathy? Any other explanation is nonsense——why, they’d
as soon have thought of studying American history. (Turns her back,
buries herself in her pamphlet, first memorizing aloud, until Annie
enters, then to herself, rocking to and fro, and rapidly moving her
lips, without uttering a sound.)

Enter Annie, absorbed in her pamphlet—does not at first see Margaret.

Annie. (Memorizing: Er liess mich gestern früh rufen, und sagte

mir dass er einen sehr unangenehmen Brief von Ihrem Lehrer
erhalten hatte. Repeats twice aloud, then to herself, briskly moving
her lips.)
M. (Still not seeing her sister.) Wie geht es Ihrem Herrn
Schwiegervater? Es freut mich sehr, dass Ihre Frau Mutter wieder
wohl ist. (Repeats. Then mouths in silence.)
(Annie repeats her sentence a couple of times aloud; then looks
up, working her lips, and discovers Margaret.) Oh, you here!
(Running to her.) O lovey-dovey, dovey-lovey, I’ve got the gr-reatest
news! Guess, guess, guess! You’ll never guess in a hundred thousand
million years—and more!
M. Oh, tell me, tell me, dearie; don’t keep me in agony.
A. Well, I will. What—do—you—think? They’re here!
M. Wh-a-t! Who? When? Which? Speak!
A. Will and George!
M. Annie Alexandra Victoria Stephenson, what do you mean!
A. As sure as guns!
M. (Spasmodically unarming and kissing her.) ’Sh! don’t use such
language. O darling, say it again!
A. As sure as guns!
M. I don’t mean that! Tell me again, that—
A. (Springing up and waltzing about the room.) They’re here—in
this very village—to learn German—for three months! Es sollte mich
sehr freuen wenn Sie—
M. (Joining in the dance.) Oh, it’s just too lovely for anything!
(Unconsciously memorizing:) Es wäre mir lieb wenn Sie morgen mit
mir in die Kirche gehen könnten, aber ich kann selbst nicht gehen,
weil ich Sonntags gewöhnlich krank bin. Juckhe!
A. (Finishing some unconscious memorizing.)—morgen Mittag bei
mir speisen könnten. Juckhe! Sit down and I’ll tell you all I’ve heard.
(They sit.) They’re here, and under that same odious law that fetters
us—our tongues, I mean; the metaphor’s faulty, but no matter. They
can go out, and see people, only on condition that they hear and
speak German, and German only.
M. Isn’t—that—too lovely!
A. And they’re coming to see us!
M. Darling! (Kissing her.) But are you sure?
A. Sure as guns—Gatling guns!
M. ’Sh! don’t child, it’s schrecklich! Darling—you aren’t mistaken?
A. As sure as g—batteries!

They jump up and dance a moment—then—

 M. (With distress.) But, Annie dear!—we can’t talk German—and
neither can they!
A. (Sorrowfully.) I didn’t think of that.
M. How cruel it is! What can we do?
A. (After a reflective pause, resolutely.) Margaret—we’ve got to.
M. Got to what?
A. Speak German.
M. Why, how, child?
A. (Contemplating her pamphlet with earnestness.) I can tell you
one thing. Just give me the blessed privilege: just hinsetzen Will
Jackson here in front of me and I’ll talk German to him as long as
this Meisterschaft holds out to burn.
M. (Joyously.) Oh, what an elegant idea! You certainly have got a
mind that’s a mine of resources, if ever anybody had one.
A. I’ll skin this Meisterschaft to the last sentence in it!
M. (With a happy idea.) Why, Annie, it’s the greatest thing in the
world. I’ve been all this time struggling and despairing over these few
little Meisterschaft primers: but as sure as you live, I’ll have the
whole fifteen by heart before this time day after to-morrow. See if I
don’t.
A. And so will I; and I’ll trowel-in a layer of Ollendorff mush
between every couple of courses of Meisterschaft bricks. Juckhe!
M. Hoch! hoch! hoch!
A. Stoss an!
M. Juckhe! Wir werden gleich gute deutsche Schülerinnen werden!
Juck——
A. —he!
M. Annie, when are they coming to see us? To-night?
A. No.
M. No? Why not? When are they coming? What are they waiting
for? The idea! I never heard of such a thing! What do you——
A. (Breaking in.) Wait, wait, wait! give a body a chance. They have
their reasons.
M. Reasons?—what reasons?
 A. Well, now, when you stop and think, they’re royal good ones.
They’ve got to talk German when they come, haven’t they? Of course.
Well, they don’t know any German but Wie befinden Sie sich, and
Haben Sie gut geschlafen, and Vater unser, and Ich trinke lieber Bier
als Wasser, and a few little parlor things like that; but when it comes
to talking, why, they don’t know a hundred and fifty German words,
put them all together.
M. Oh, I see!
A. So they’re going neither to eat, sleep, smoke, nor speak the truth
till they’ve crammed home the whole fifteen Meisterschafts
auswendig!
M. Noble hearts!
A. They’ve given themselves till day after to-morrow, half-past 7 P.
M., and then they’ll arrive here, loaded.
M. Oh, how lovely, how gorgeous, how beautiful! Some think this
world is made of mud; I think it’s made of rainbows. (Memorizing.)
Wenn irgend möglich, so möchte ich noch heute Vormittag dort
ankommen, da es mir sehr daran gelegen ist,—Annie, I can learn it
just like nothing!
A. So can I. Meisterschaft’s mere fun—I don’t see how it ever could
have seemed difficult. Come! We can be disturbed here: let’s give
orders that we don’t want anything to eat for two days; and are
absent to friends, dead to strangers, and not at home even to nougat-
peddlers——
M. Schön! and we’ll lock ourselves into our rooms, and at the end
of two days, whosoever may ask us a Meisterschaft question shall get
a Meisterschaft answer—and hot from the bat!
Both. (Reciting in unison.) Ich habe einen Hut für meinen Sohn,
ein Paar Handschuhe für meinen Bruder, und einen Kamm für mich
selbst gekauft.

(Exeunt.)
Enter Mrs. Blumenthal, the Wirthin.

Wirthin. (Solus.) Ach, die armen Mädchen, sie hassen die

deutsche Sprache, drum ist es ganz und gar unmöglich dass sie sie je
lernen können. Es bricht mir ja mein Herz ihre Kummer über die
Studien anzusehen.... Warum haben sie den Entschluss gefasst in
ihren Zimmern ein Paar Tage zu bleiben?... Ja—gewiss—dass
versteht sich: sie sind entmuthigt—arme Kinder!
(A knock at the door.) Herein!

Enter Gretchen with card.

G. Er ist schon wieder da, und sagt dass er nur Sie sehen will.
(Hands the card.) Auch—
Wirthin. Gott im Himmel—der Vater der Mädchen! (Puts the
card in her pocket.) Er wünscht die Töchter nicht zu treffen? Ganz
recht; also, Du schweigst.
G. Zu Befehl.
Wirthin. Lass ihn hereinkommen.
G. Ja, Frau Wirthin!

Exit Gretchen.

Wirthin. (Solus.) Ah—jetzt muss ich ihm die Wahrheit

offenbaren.

Enter Mr. Stephenson.

Stephenson. Good morning, Mrs. Blumenthal—keep your seat,

keep your seat, please. I’m only here for a moment—merely to get
your report, you know. (Seating himself.) Don’t want to see the girls
—poor things, they’d want to go home with me. I’m afraid I couldn’t
have the heart to say no. How’s the German getting along?
Wirthin. N-not very well; I was afraid you would ask me that. You
see, they hate it, they don’t take the least interest in it, and there isn’t
anything to incite them to an interest, you see. And so they can’t talk
at all.
S. M-m. That’s bad. I had an idea that they’d get lonesome, and
have to seek society; and then, of course, my plan would work,
considering the cast-iron conditions of it.
Wirthin. But it hasn’t so far. I’ve thrown nice company in their
way—I’ve done my very best, in every way I could think of—but it’s
no use; they won’t go out, and they won’t receive anybody. And a
body can’t blame them; they’d be tongue-tied—couldn’t do anything
with a German conversation. Now when I started to learn German—
such poor German as I know—the case was very different: my
intended was a German. I was to live among Germans the rest of my
life; and so I had to learn. Why, bless my heart! I nearly lost the man
the first time he asked me—I thought he was talking about the
measles. They were very prevalent at the time. Told him I didn’t want
any in mine. But I found out the mistake, and I was fixed for him
next time... Oh, yes, Mr. Stephenson, a sweetheart’s a prime
incentive!
S. (Aside.) Good soul! she doesn’t suspect that my plan is a double
scheme—includes a speaking knowledge of German, which I am
bound they shall have, and the keeping them away from those two
young fellows—though if I had known that those boys were going off
for a year’s foreign travel, I—however, the girls would never learn
that language at home; they’re here, and I won’t relent—they’ve got
to stick the three months out. (Aloud.) So they are making poor
progress? Now tell me—will they learn it—after a sort of fashion, I
mean—in the three months?
Wirthin. Well, now, I’ll tell you the only chance I see. Do what I
will, they won’t answer my German with anything but English; if that
goes on, they’ll stand stock still. Now I’m willing to do this: I’ll
straighten everything up, get matters in smooth running order, and
day after to-morrow I’ll go to bed sick, and stay sick three weeks.
S. Good! You are an angel! I see your idea. The servant girl—
Wirthin. That’s it; that’s my project. She doesn’t know a word of
English. And Gretchen’s a real good soul, and can talk the slates off a
roof. Her tongue’s just a flutter-mill. I’ll keep my room,—just ailing a
little,—and they’ll never see my face except when they pay their little
duty-visits to me, and then I’ll say English disorders my mind.
They’ll be shut up with Gretchen’s wind-mill, and she’ll just grind
them to powder. Oh, they’ll get a start in the language—sort of a one,
sure’s you live. You come back in three weeks.
S. Bless you, my Retterin! I’ll be here to the day! Get ye to your
sick-room—you shall have treble pay. (Looking at watch.) Good! I
can just catch my train. Leben Sie wohl! (Exit.)
Wirthin. Leben Sie wohl! mein Herr!
 ACT II.

SCENE I.

Time, a couple of days later. (The girls discovered with their work and primers.)

Annie. Was fehlt der Wirthin?

Margaret. Dass weiss ich nicht. Sie ist schon vor zwei Tagen ins
Bett gegangen—
A. My! how fliessend you speak!
M. Danke schön—und sagte dass sie nicht wohl sei.
A. Good! Oh, no, I don’t mean that! no—only lucky for us—
glücklich, you know I mean because it’ll be so much nicer to have
them all to ourselves.
M. Oh, natürlich! Ja! Dass ziehe ich durchaus vor. Do you believe
your Meisterschaft will stay with you, Annie?
A. Well, I know it is with me—every last sentence of it; and a
couple of hods of Ollendorff, too, for emergencies. May be they’ll
refuse to deliver,—right off—at first, you know—der Verlegenheit
wegen—aber ich will sie später herausholen—when I get my hand in
—und vergisst Du dass nicht!
M. Sei nicht grob, Liebste. What shall we talk about first—when
they come?
A. Well—let me see. There’s shopping—and—all that about the
trains, you know,—and going to church—and—buying tickets to
London, and Berlin, and all around—and all that subjunctive stuff
about the battle in Afghanistan, and where the American was said to
be born, and so on—and—and ah—oh, there’s so many things—I
don’t think a body can choose beforehand, because you know the
circumstances and the atmosphere always have so much to do in
directing a conversation, especially a German conversation, which is
only a kind of an insurrection, any way. I believe it’s best to just
depend on Prov—(Glancing at watch, and gasping)—half-past—
seven!
M. Oh, dear, I’m all of a tremble! Let’s get something ready, Annie!
(Both fall nervously to reciting): Entschuldigen Sie, mein Herr,
können Sie mir vielleicht sagen wie ich nach dem norddeutschen
Bahnhof gehe? (They repeat it several times, losing their grip and
mixing it all up.)

(A knock.)

Both. Herein! Oh, dear! O der heilige—

Enter Gretchen.

Gretchen (Ruffled and indignant.) Entschuldigen Sie, meine

gnädigsten Fräulein, es sind zwei junge rasende Herren draussen, die
herein wollen, aber ich habe ihnen geschworen dass—(Handing the
cards.)
M. Du liebe Zeit, they’re here! And of course down goes my back
hair! Stay and receive them, dear, while I—(Leaving.)
A. I—alone? I won’t! I’ll go with you! (To G.) Lassen Sie die Herren
näher treten; und sagen Sie ihnen dass wir gleich zurückkommen
werden. (Exit.)
Gr. (Solus.) Was! Sie freuen sich darüber? Und ich sollte wirklich
diese Blödsinnigen, dies grobe Rindvieh hereinlassen? In den
hülflosen Umständen meiner gnädigen jungen Damen?—Unsinn!
(Pause—thinking.) Wohlan! Ich werde sie mal beschützen! Sollte
man nicht glauben, dass sie einen Sparren zu viel hätten? (Tapping
her skull significantly.) Was sie mir doch Alles gesagt haben! Der
Eine: Guten Morgen! wie geht es Ihrem Herrn Schwiegervater? Du
liebe Zeit! Wie sollte ich einen Schwiegervater haben können! Und
der Andere: “Es thut mir sehr leid dass Ihr Herr Vater meinen
Bruder nicht gesehen hat, als er doch gestern in dem Laden des
deutschen Kaufmannes war!” Potztausendhimmelsdonnerwetter!
Oh, ich war ganz rasend! Wie ich aber rief: “Meine Herren, ich kenne
Sie nicht, und Sie kennen meinen Vater nicht, wissen Sie, denn er ist
schon lange durchgebrannt, und geht nicht beim Tage in einen
Laden hinein, wissen Sie,—und ich habe keinen Schwiegervater, Gott
sei Dank, werde auch nie einen kriegen, werde ueberhaupt, wissen
Sie, ein solches Ding nie haben, nie dulden, nie ausstehen: warum
greifen Sie ein Mädchen an, das nur Unschuld kennt, das Ihnen nie
Etwas zu Leide gethan hat?” Dann haben sie sich beide die Finger in
die Ohren gesteckt und gebetet: “Allmächtiger Gott! Erbarme Dich
unser!” (Pauses.) Nun, ich werde schon diesen Schurken Einlass
gönnen, aber ich werde ein Auge mit ihnen haben, damit sie sich
nicht wie reine Teufel geberden sollen.
(Exit, grumbling and shaking her head.)

Enter William and George.

W. My land, what a girl! and what an incredible gift of gabble!—

kind of patent climate-proof compensation-balance self-acting
automatic Meisterschaft—touch her button, and br-r-r! away she
goes!
Geo. Never heard anything like it; tongue journaled on ball-
bearings! I wonder what she said; seemed to be swearing, mainly.
W. (After mumbling Meisterschaft awhile.) Look here, George,
this is awful—come to think—this project: we can’t talk this frantic
language.
Geo. I know it, Will, and it is awful; but I can’t live without seeing
Margaret—I’ve endured it as long as I can. I should die if I tried to
hold out longer—and even German is preferable to death.
W. (Hesitatingly.) Well, I don’t know; it’s a matter of opinion.
Geo. (Irritably.) It isn’t a matter of opinion either. German is
preferable to death.
W. (Reflectively.) Well, I don’t know—the problem is so sudden—
but I think you may be right: some kinds of death. It is more than
likely that a slow, lingering—well, now, there in Canada in the early
times a couple of centuries ago, the Indians would take a missionary
and skin him, and get some hot ashes and boiling water and one
thing and another, and by and by, that missionary—well, yes, I can
see that, by and by, talking German could be a pleasant change for
him.
 Geo. Why, of course. Das versteht sich; but you have to always
think a thing out, or you’re not satisfied. But let’s not go to bothering
about thinking out this present business; we’re here, we’re in for it;
you are as moribund to see Annie as I am to see Margaret; you know
the terms: we’ve got to speak German. Now stop your mooning and
get at your Meisterschaft; we’ve got nothing else in the world.
W. Do you think that’ll see us through?
Geo. Why it’s got to. Suppose we wandered out of it and took a
chance at the language on our own responsibility, where the nation
would we be? Up a stump, that’s where. Our only safety is in sticking
like wax to the text.
W. But what can we talk about?
Geo. Why, anything that Meisterschaft talks about. It ain’t our
affair.
W. I know; but Meisterschaft talks about everything.
Geo. And yet don’t talk about anything long enough for it to get
embarrassing. Meisterschaft is just splendid for general
conversation.
W. Yes, that’s so; but it’s so blamed general! Won’t it sound
foolish?
Geo. Foolish? Why, of course; all German sounds foolish.
W. Well, that is true; I didn’t think of that.
Geo. Now, don’t fool around any more. Load up; load up; get
ready. Fix up some sentences; you’ll need them in two minutes now.
(They walk up and down, moving their lips in dumb-show
memorizing.)
W. Look here—when we’ve said all that’s in the book on a topic,
and want to change the subject, how can we say so?—how would a
German say it?
Geo. Well, I don’t know. But you know when they mean “Change
cars,” they say Umsteigen. Don’t you reckon that will answer?
W. Tip-top! It’s short and goes right to the point; and it’s got a
business whang to it that’s almost American. Umsteigen!—change
subject!—why, it’s the very thing.
Geo. All right, then, you umsteigen—for I hear them coming.
 Enter the girls.

A. To W. (With solemnity.) Guten morgen, mein Herr, es freut

mich sehr, Sie zu sehen.
W. Guten morgen, mein Fräulein, es freut mich sehr Sie zu sehen.
(Margaret and George repeat the same sentences. Then, after an
embarrassing silence, Margaret refers to her book and says:)
M. Bitte, meine Herren, setzen Sie sich.
The Gentlemen. Danke schön. (The four seat themselves in
couples, the width of the stage apart, and the two conversations
begin. The talk is not flowing—at any rate at first; there are painful
silences all along. Each couple worry out a remark and a reply:
there is a pause of silent thinking, and then the other couple deliver
themselves.)
W. Haben Sie meinen Vater in dem Laden meines Bruders nicht
gesehen?
A. Nein, mein Herr, ich habe Ihren Herrn Vater in dem Laden
Ihres Herrn Bruders nicht gesehen.
Geo. Waren Sie gestern Abend im Koncert, oder im Theater?
M. Nein, ich war gestern Abend nicht im Koncert, noch im
Theater, ich war gestern Abend zu Hause.

General break-down—long pause.

W. Ich störe doch nicht etwa?

A. Sie stören mich durchaus nicht.
Geo. Bitte, lassen Sie sich nicht von mir stören.
M. Aber ich bitte Sie, Sie stören mich durchaus nicht.
W. (To both girls.) Wen wir Sie stören so gehen wir gleich wieder.
A. O, nein! Gewiss, nein!
M. Im Gegentheil, es freut uns sehr, Sie zu sehen—alle Beide.
W. Schön!
Geo. Gott sei dank!
M. (Aside.) It’s just lovely!
A. (Aside.) It’s like a poem.
 Pause.

W. Umsteigen!
M. Um—welches?
W. Umsteigen.
Geo. Auf English, change cars—oder subject.
Both Girls. Wie schön!
W. Wir haben uns die Freiheit genommen, bei Ihnen
vorzusprechen.
A. Sie sind sehr gütig.
Geo. Wir wollten uns erkundigen, wie Sie sich befänden.
M. Ich bin Ihnen sehr verbunden—meine Schwester auch.
W. Meine Frau lasst sich Ihnen bestens empfehlen.
A. Ihre Frau?
W. (Examining his book.) Vielleicht habe ich mich geirrt. (Shows
the place.) Nein, gerade so sagt das Buch.
A. (Satisfied.) Ganz recht. Aber—
W. Bitte empfehlen Sie mich Ihrem Herrn Bruder.
A. Ah, dass ist viel besser—viel besser. (Aside.) Wenigstens es wäre
viel besser wenn ich einen Bruder hätte.
Geo. Wie ist es Ihnen gegangen, seitdem ich das Vergnügen hatte,
Sie anderswo zu sehen?
M. Danke bestens, ich befinde mich gewöhnlich ziemlich wohl.

Gretchen slips in with a gun, and listens.

Geo. (Still to Margaret.) Befindet sich Ihre Frau Gemahlin wohl?

Gr. (Raising hands and eyes.) Frau Gemahlin—heiliger Gott! (Is
like to betray herself with her smothered laughter and glides out.)
M. Danke sehr, meine Frau ist ganz wohl.

Pause.

W. Dürfen wir vielleicht—umsteigen?

 The Others. Gut!
Geo. (Aside.) I feel better, now. I’m beginning to catch on. (Aloud.)
Ich möchte gern morgen früh einige Einkäufe machen und würde
Ihnen sehr verbunden sein, wenn Sie mir den Gefallen thäten, mir
die Namen der besten hiesigen Firmen aufzuschreiben.
M. (Aside.) How sweet!
W. (Aside.) Hang it, I was going to say that! That’s one of the
noblest things in the book.
A. Ich möchte Sie gern begleiten, aber es ist mir wirklich heute
Morgen ganz unmöglich auszugehen. (Aside.) It’s getting as easy as 9
times 7 is 46.
M. Sagen Sie dem Briefträger, wenn’s gefällig ist, er möchte Ihnen
den eingeschriebenen Brief geben lassen.
W. Ich würde Ihnen sehr verbunden sein, wenn Sie diese Schachtel
für mich nach der Post tragen würden, da mir sehr daran liegt einen
meiner Geschäftsfreunde in dem Laden des deutschen Kaufmanns
heute Abend treffen zu können. (Aside.) All down but nine; set ’m up
on the other alley!
A. Aber Herr Jackson! Sie haben die Sätze gemischt. Es ist
unbegreiflich wie Sie das haben thun können. Zwischen Ihrem ersten
Theil und Ihrem letzten Theil haben Sie ganze fünfzig Seiten
übergeschlagen! Jetzt bin ich ganz verloren. Wie kann man reden,
wenn man seinen Platz durchaus nicht wieder finden kann?
W. Oh, bitte, verzeihen Sie; ich habe dass wirklich nich
beabsichtigt.
A. (Mollified.) Sehr wohl, lassen Sie gut sein. Aber thun Sie es
nicht wieder. Sie müssen ja doch einräumen, dass solche Dinge
unerträgliche Verwirrung mit sich führen.
(Gretchen slips in again with her gun.)
W. Unzweifelhaft haben Sie Recht, meine holdselige
Landsmännin..... Umsteigen!

(As George gets fairly into the following, Gretchen draws a bead on him, and lets
drive at the close, but the gun snaps.)
 Geo. Glauben Sie, dass ich ein hübsches Wohnzimmer für mich
selbst und ein kleines Schlafzimmer für meinen Sohn in diesem
Hotel für fünfzehn Mark die Woche bekommen kann, oder würden
Sie mir rathen, in einer Privatwohnung Logis zu nehmen? (Aside.)
That’s a daisy!
Gr. (Aside.) Schade! (She draws her charge and reloads.)
M. Glauben Sie nicht Sie werden besser thun bei diesem Wetter zu
Hause zu bleiben?
A. Freilich glaube ich, Herr Franklin, Sie werden sich erkälten,
wenn Sie bei diesem unbeständigen Wetter ohne Ueberrock
ausgehen.
Gr. (Relieved—aside.) So? Man redet von Ausgehen. Das klingt
schon besser. (Sits.)
W. (To A.) Wie theuer haben Sie das gekauft? (Indicating a part of
her dress.)
A. Das hat achtzehn Mark gekostet.
W. Das ist sehr theuer.
Geo. Ja, obgleich dieser Stoff wunderschön ist und das Muster
sehr geschmackvoll und auch das Vorzüglichste dass es in dieser Art
gibt, so ist es doch furchtbar theuer für einen solchen Artikel.
M. (Aside.) How sweet is this communion of soul with soul!
A. Im Gegentheil, mein Herr, das ist sehr billig. Sehen Sie sich nur
die Qualität an.
(They all examine it.)
Geo. Möglicherweise ist es das allerneuste dass man in diesem
Stoff hat; aber das Muster gefällt mir nicht.

(Pause.)

W. Umsteigen!
A. Welchen Hund haben Sie? Haben Sie den hübschen Hund des
Kaufmanns, oder den hässlichen Hund der Urgrossmutter des
Lehrlings des bogenbeinigen Zimmermanns?
W. (Aside.) Oh, come, she’s ringing in a cold deck on us: that’s
Ollendorff.
 Geo. Ich habe nicht den Hund des—des—(Aside.) Stuck! That’s no
Meisterschaft; they don’t play fair. (Aloud.) Ich habe nicht den Hund
des—des—In unserem Buche leider, gibt es keinen Hund; daher, ob
ich auch gern von solchen Thieren sprechen möchte, ist es mir doch
unmöglich, weil ich nicht vorbereitet bin. Entschuldigen Sie, meine
Damen.
Gr. (Aside.) Beim Teufel, sie sind alle blödsinnig geworden. In
meinem Leben habe ich nie ein so närrisches, verfluchtes,
verdammtes Gespräch gehört.
W. Bitte, umsteigen.

(Run the following rapidly through.)

M. (Aside.) Oh, I’ve flushed an easy batch! (Aloud.) Würden Sie

mir erlauben meine Reisetasche hier hinzustellen?
Gr. (Aside.) Wo ist seine Reisetasche? Ich sehe keine.
W. Bitte sehr.
Geo. Ist meine Reisetasche Ihnen im Wege?
Gr. (Aside.) Und wo ist seine Reisetasche?
A. Erlauben Sie mir Sie von meiner Reisetasche zu befreien.
Gr. (Aside.) Du Esel!
W. Ganz und gar nicht. (To Geo.) Es ist sehr schwül in diesem
Coupé.
Gr. (Aside.) Coupé.
Geo. Sie haben Recht. Erlauben Sie mir, gefälligst, das Fenster zu
öffnen. Ein wenig Luft würde uns gut thun.
M. Wir fahren sehr rasch.
A. Haben Sie den Namen jener Station gehört?
W. Wie lange halten wir auf dieser Station an?
Geo. Ich reise nach Dresden, Schaffner. Wo muss ich umsteigen?
A. Sie steigen nicht um, Sie bleiben sitzen.
Gr. (Aside.) Sie sind ja alle ganz und gar verrückt! Man denke sich
sie glauben dass sie auf der Eisenbahn reisen.
Geo. (Aside, to William) Now brace up; pull all your confidence
together, my boy, and we’ll try that lovely good-bye business a
flutter. I think it’s about the gaudiest thing in the book, if you boom
it right along and don’t get left on a base. It’ll impress the girls.
(Aloud.) Lassen Sie uns gehen: es ist schon sehr spät, und ich muss
morgen ganz früh aufstehen.
Gr. (Aside-grateful.) Gott sei Dank dass sie endlich gehen. (Sets
her gun aside.)
W. (To Geo.) Ich danke Ihnen höflichst für die Ehre die sie mir
erweisen, aber ich kann nicht länger bleiben.
Geo. (To W.) Entschuldigen Sie mich gütigst, aber ich kann
wirklich nicht länger bleiben.

Gretchen looks on stupefied.

W. (To Geo.) Ich habe schon eine Einladung angenommen; ich

kann wirklich nicht länger bleiben.

Gretchen fingers her gun again.

Geo. (To W.) Ich muss gehen.

W. (To Geo.) Wie! Sie wollen schon wieder gehen? Sie sind ja eben
erst gekommen.
M. (Aside). It’s just music!
A. (Aside.) Oh, how lovely they do it!
Geo. (To W.) Also denken sie doch noch nicht an’s Gehen.
W. (To Geo.) Es thut mir unendlich leid, aber ich muss nach
Hause. Meine Frau wird sich wundern, was aus mir geworden ist.
Geo. (To W.) Meine Frau hat keine Ahnung wo ich bin: ich muss
wirklich jetzt fort.
W. (To Geo.) Dann will ich Sie nicht länger aufhalten; ich bedaure
sehr dass Sie uns einen so kurzen Besuch gemacht haben.
Geo. (To W.) Adieu—auf recht baldiges Wiedersehen.
W. Umsteigen!

Great hand-clapping from the girls.

M. (Aside.) Oh, how perfect! how elegant!

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