done, and we are standing beside our little beds, and all around is as
silent as one can expect it to be in an hotel where people seem to be
arriving all night long with heavy luggage, and to be all, more or less,
in trouble, I argue with him, and gently reprove him. To avoid the
appearance of sermonising as much as possible, I put it on mere grounds
of expediency.

"How are we to find time," I say, "to go to all the places that we really
ought to go to--to all the cafes and theatres and music-halls and
beer-gardens and dancing-saloons that we want to visit--if you waste half
the precious day loafing about churches and cathedrals?"

He is deeply moved, and promises to swear off. He vows, with tears in
his voice, that he will never enter a church-door again. But next
morning, when the temptation comes, all his good resolutions are swept
away, and again he yields. It is no good being angry with him, because
he evidently does really try; but there is something about the mere odour
of a church that he simply cannot withstand.

Not knowing, then, that this weakness of his for churches was so strong,
I made no objection to the proposed visit to Cologne Cathedral, and,
accordingly, towards it we wended our way. B. has seen it before, and
knows all about it. He tells me it was begun about the middle of the
thirteenth century, and was only completed ten years ago. It seems to me
that there must have been gross delay on the part of the builder. Why, a
plumber would be ashamed to take as long as that over a job!

B. also asserts that the two towers are the highest church towers in the
world. I dispute this, and deprecate the towers generally. B. warmly
defends them. He says they are higher than any building in Europe,
except the Eiffel Tower.

"Oh, dear no!" I say, "there are many buildings higher than they in
Europe--to say nothing of Asia and America."

I have no authority for making this assertion. As a matter of fact, I
know nothing whatever about the matter. I merely say it to irritate B.
He appears to take a sort of personal interest in the building, and
enlarges upon its beauties and advantages with as much fervour as if he
were an auctioneer trying to sell the place.

He retorts that the towers are 512 feet high.

I say:

"Nonsense! Somebody has imposed upon you, because they see you are a
foreigner."

He becomes quite angry at this, and says he can show me the figures in
the guide-book.

"The g