tausend_--_hemphf_--_ruble_--(a terrible gritting of
the teeth)--_sechs und fuenfzig_--_Gott im Himmel!_--_Ich kann nicht
schlafen!_" Here he would jump up and shout "Kellner! Kellner! _ein
flask bier!_--_sechs und zechzig_--_zweimal acht und vierzig! Kellner,
flask bier!_--_Liebe Gott_--_was ist das?_--_Nine und sechzig_--_flask
bier!_ _Kleich! Kleich!_" When the beer came he would drink off three
bottles without stopping, then light his pipe, fill the cabin with smoke,
and after he had done that go on deck to get the fresh air. I could hear
him for hours walking up and down over my head, and thought I could
occasionally detect the words. "_Hemphf_--_ruble_--_thaler_--_fuenfmal
sechs und zwanzig_--_mein Gott!_" It was evident the man was laboring
under some dreadful internal excitement about the price of hemp. What
could it be? Was he going to hang himself? Did he contemplate buying some
Russian hemp for that purpose especially? The mystery was heightened by
the fact that he was frequently in close conversation with the young man
whom I have already mentioned as my other fellow-passenger, and they both
talked about nothing else but hemp. What in the name of sense were they
going to do with hemp in Mechlenberg, their native country, where people
were beheaded--unless they meant to hang themselves? The mystery troubled
me so much that I finally made bold to ask the young man if his friend
had committed any serious crime, and whether that was the reason he
talked so much about hemp? These North Germans are a queer people. I
don't think they ever suspect any body to be joking. They take the most
outrageous proposition literally, and never seem to understand that there
can be two meanings to any thing. As Sydney Smith says of the Scotch, it
would take a surgical operation to get a joke well into their
understanding. When I propounded this question to my young
fellow-passenger--a very amiable and intelligent young man--he looked
distressed and horror-stricken, and replied with great earnestness, "Oh
no, he is a very respectable man. I am certain he never committed a crime
in his life." "But," said I, "if he doesn't intend to hang somebody, why
should he rave about hemp all night?" "Oh, he is a rope-maker. He is
going to Russia to buy a cargo of hemp, and he's afraid prices will go up
unless he gets there soon. The head wind and chopping sea keep us back a
good deal." "Yes, yes, I understand it all now. Suppose, my young friend,