New-York tribune., 1908-02-02
Il GERMAN DEFEAT.
4rrOgant Herr Lieutenant Beaten IN
Battle of Words.

| Berlin is very new-an infant among European
| capitals-and old Fritz upon his lumpy horse
| is not ancient, since his end came after we
| Americans had sur freedom. Compare the
German capital with Paris Vienna or Brussels,
| not to speak of Rome. and 1t seems almost as
| new as Cincinnati Detroit. The distinctive and
pictorial interest of it comes first OF all from
| the swar1nng soldiery-from the bright helmets.
spiked pumed the glitter of gold lace, the blue
| and crimson uniforms, the white jack boots and
| the clank of sabres everywhere. dozen times an
| hour you see some gorgeous warrior st1Hen sud-
| denly and salute he perceives another of his
| kind somewhere within the regulation distance
| 1t is most attractive for a time
Yet after little while the everlasting army off,
| Ger gets upon your nerves. His lordly and all
conquering air, his supercious pose, his assump-
ton that has the right of way matter where
you meet him; his refusal to swerve a hairs
breadth as he stalks along the broadest trottoir-
somehow you feel that there is a great deal too
much of him. And then you hear stories of his
insolence women, his bullying of civilians, the
grim tales of the barrack yards, Where simple
country boys tortured by the drill sergeant
with nconceivabs brutality. and now and then
darker and sinister revelation of moral rot
tenness fostering underneath the gorgeous uniform
Here is where 1 recall the adventure of the Herr
Lieutenant. You must know that staying tempo
rary in Berlin and viewing it with scorn is an
American friend whom may, for the purpose OF
this narrative, call Bob-especally as that is what
everybody calls him in his native land Now, Bob
with sort of mental twist which leads him to
condemn whatever Is under his immediate eye and
to admire whatever is remote. AT home he pro-
fesses believe that the great Republic is totter-
ing to fall. Everything American is either de-
testabe, ridiculous worthless. They do st all
SO much bstter in Europe. But here IN Berlin, you
should hear Bob blaze with patriotic ardor Amer
lea is Gods country, sure enough AS for Germany
and the Germans-pah Bob has most wonderful
vocabulary. to which half dozen languages have
Ih,,tal iC
finds 1t difficult to relieve his burdened soul of all
Its pent-up feeling.
Well, evening" rather late, roaming in
a somewhat lonely and Ill lighted section Of the
Alt-Moabit. when down the pavement comes. very
haughtily. young Herr Lieutenant of his majes-
ty's Brandenburgers. He is very blond and very
trig. much pnched TO his waist. and padded
to his shoulders. and his strut makes IL apparent
even from afar that the earth and the funess
thereof are all his. 1 feel Bob fairly brstle
this young warrior heaves in sight. The sidewalk
is reasonably wide and give full half of It to
the Herr Lieutenant But he has already set his
course, and to swerve from it for the sake OF two
contemplate civilians would be absurd and igno-
minous. The result is that he into violent
collision with Bob. Now, Bob had instantaneously
perceived just what was going to happen and had
braced himself for the impact with the Herr Lieu
tenant. Therefore, the Herr Lieutenant reels vio-
lently and almost falls into the roadway his cap
half shaken from his head and his sword getting
awkwardy mixed up with his sky blue legs. he
pulls himself together fercely
"Du Lump" snarls the Herr Lieutenant.
''Schweinehund!" flashes back Bob, like a rapid
fire gun.
Now, call any German a pig-dog Is &, very
serious matter. But to apply that to an off,
Ger in uniform, especially after you have knocked
him all over the place. is an insult that can be
washed out by blood alone. According to the n
written code of his majesty's army. the Herr
Lieutenant instantly draw and run Bob
through the body. His hand goes swiftly to his
sword hilt. But Bob is by means slow With
the agility of a cat he leaps aside and catches up
what an American rustic would call rock 1t
is fine. smooth, round cobblestone of about two
pounds in weight, and Bob poses it deftIy in his
ready hand.
You slab-sided, spindle-shanked wafie-iawed
pop-eyed son of pink porcupner" cries Bob IF
you pull that tin sword of yours I'll mash vour
face into butwurstr'
1t may have been the effect of the moonlight but !
notice that the Ioseate cheeks OF the Herr Lieu
tenant have suddenly turned to chalk. Perhaps he
Is appalled, TO find that the American language
contains SO many compound words Doubtless on .
the field OF battle. with his fellow Brandenburzers
he would cheerfully rush forward to certain death
amid the cannon thunder. But up here, In a dim
corner of the Alt-Moabit. to have his face his /
beautiful face converted into biutwurst nv 81
rock at the hands of foreign sayage-there ia
40 glory in it, And Bob has q very wicked look
n he balances the cobbiestone in his nervous
muscular hand.
There is poignant silence for about two s.o |
'nds Then the Herr Lieutenant adjusts his can !
'ndeavors to assume air Of high disdain ara |
talks stifhy OF into the night with muttered
words among which distinguish only Bar
,arismus''
Bob and / make way to the hospitable .hsI-
er OF the HerculsAgaytsn. and there csIsbrata IA.