e the greater number cost ninepence, sixpence, or
threepence each. The hungry man would begin with crayfish, which were
offered to him prepared in ten various ways; for the Germans, like the
French, are extremely fond of crayfish. He would have them in soup,
for instance, or with asparagus, with salad or dressed with dill. Then
he would find the week's bill of fare on his card, three or four
dishes for each day, some cooked in small casseroles and served so to
any guest who orders one. If it was a Friday he could have a ragout of
chicken in the Bremen style, or a slice from a Hamburg leg of mutton
with cream sauce and celery salad, or ox-tongue cooked with young
turnips. If he was a Catholic he would find two kinds of fish ready
for him,--trout, cooked blue, and a ragout of crayfish with asparagus
and baked perch. But these are just the special dishes of the day, and
he is not bound to try them. There are seven kinds of soup, including
real turtle, and it is not for me to say how real turtle can be
supplied in Berlin for 30 pfennig. There are seven kinds of fish and
too many varieties of meat, poultry, salads, vegetables and sweets,
both hot and cold, to count. A man can have any kind of cooking he
fancies, too; his steak may be German, Austrian, or French; he can
have English roast beef, Russian caviare, a Maltese rice pudding,
apples from the Tyrol, wild strawberries from a German forest, all the
cheeses of France and England, a Welsh rarebit, and English celery.
The English celery is as mysterious as the real turtle, for it was
offered in June. Pheasants and partridges, I can honestly say,
however, were not offered. Under the head of game there were only
venison, geese, chickens, and pigeons.

I am sorry now that when I dined at this restaurant I did not order
real turtle soup, _Roast beef Engl. mit Schmorkartoffeln_, celery, and
a Welsh rarebit, because then I should have discovered whether these
old British friends were recognisable in their Berlin environment. But
it was more amusing at the time to ask for ham cooked in champagne and
served with radish sauce, and other curious inviting combinations.

"But at home," I said to the artist,--"at home we just eat to live. We
have a great contempt for people who pay much attention to food."

"I stayed in an English house last year, and never did I hear so much
about food," said he. "One would eat nothing but grape-nuts and
cheese, and another swore by toast and hot wa