Astor. The little villages
inevitably recalled the fairy-tales of Hans Andersen and the Grimm
brothers. The raftered houses had timbered balconies that all but met
across the crooked, winding streets through which we clattered over the
cobblestones. Capping many of the beams were gargoyles, demons, and
dwarfs, and a galaxy of strange creatures were carved on the ends of the
gables that jutted out every which way. The houses often had the date
they were built and the initials of the couple that built them over the
front door, frequently with some device. I saw no dates that went further
back than the late sixteen hundreds, though many of the houses doubtless
were built before then. The doors in some cases were beautifully carved
and weathered. The old pumps and wells, the stone bridges, and the little
wayside shrines took one back through the centuries. To judge by the
records carved on wall and house, high floods are no very uncommon
occurrence--the highest I noticed was in 1685, while the last one of
importance was credited to 1892.

We were much surprised at the well-fed appearance of the population, both
old and young, for we had heard so much of food shortages, and the Germans
when they surrendered had laid such stress upon it. As far as we could
judge; food was more plentiful than in France. Rubber and leather were
very scarce, many of the women wore army boots, and the shoes displayed in
shop-windows appeared made of some composition resembling pasteboard. The
coffee was evidently ground from the berry of some native bush, and its
taste in no way resembled the real. Cigars were camouflaged
cabbage-leaves, with little or no flavor, and the beer sadly fallen off
from its pre-war glory. Still, in all the essentials of life the
inhabitants appeared to be making out far better than we had been given to
believe.

We met with very little trouble. There were a few instances where people
tried to stand out against having men billeted in their houses, but we of
course paid no attention except that we saw to it that they got more men
than they would have under ordinary circumstances. Every now and then we
would have amusing side-lights upon the war news on which the more
ignorant Boches had been fed. A man upon whom several of my sergeants were
quartered asked them if the Zeppelins had done much damage to New York;
and whether Boston and Philadelphia had yet been evacuated by the
Germans--he had heard that both cities had