e new year.
Then the windows are thrown open, and they cry to their neighbors or
those passing by.

After we had exchanged congratulations, Dennett, B---- and I set out for
the Zeil. The streets were full of people, shouting to one another and
to those standing at the open windows. We failed not to cry, _"Prosst
Neu Jahr!"_ wherever we saw a damsel at the window, and the words came
back to us more musically than we sent them. Along the Zeil the
spectacle was most singular. The great wide street was filled with
companies of men, marching up and down, while from the mass rang up one
deafening, unending shout, that seemed to pierce the black sky above.
The whole scene looked stranger and wilder from the flickering light of
the swinging lamps, and I could not help thinking it must resemble a
night in Paris during the French Revolution. We joined the crowd and
used our lungs as well as any of them. For some time after we returned
home, companies passed by, singing "with us 'tis ever so!" but at three
o'clock all was again silent.

CHAPTER XIV.

WINTER IN FRANKFORT--A FAIR, AN INUNDATION AND A FIRE.

After New Year, the Main, just above the city, and the lakes in the
promenades, were frozen over. The ice was tried by the police, and
having been found of sufficient thickness, to the great joy of the
schoolboys, permission was given to skate. The lakes were soon covered
with merry skaters, and every afternoon the banks were crowded with
spectators. It was a lively sight to see two or three hundred persons
darting about, turning and crossing like a flock of crows, while, by
means of arm-chairs mounted on runners, the ladies were enabled to join
in the sport, and whirl around among them. Some of the broad meadows
near the city, which were covered with water, were the resort of the
schools. I went there often in my walks, and always found two or three
schools, with the teachers, all skating together, and playing their
winter games on the ice. I have often seen them on the meadows along the
Main; the teachers generally made quite as much noise as the scholars in
their sports.

In the Art Institute I saw the picture of "Huss before the Council of
Constance," by the painter Lessing. It contains upwards of twenty
figures. The artist has shown the greatest skill in the expression and
grouping of these. Bishops and Cardinals in their splendid robes are
seated around a table, covered with parchment folios, and before them