erested me did not appeal to them, and vice versa. They seemed to me
dull youths, heavy alike in mind and body. From lack of sufficient
fresh air and exercise they had all dull eyes, and flabby, white faces
that quivered like blancmanges when they walked. In addition, they
obstinately refused to talk German with me, looking on me as affording
an excellent opportunity for obtaining a gratuitous lesson in English.
One of Hentze's pupils was a great contrast, physically, to the rest,
for he was very spare and thin, and seldom opened his mouth. I was to
see a great deal of this silent, slim lad later on.

Mr. Spiegelberg was a prominent member of the so-called English and
French Club in Brunswick. This was not in the least what its name would
seem to indicate; the members of the Club were not bursting with
overwhelming love for our language and institutions, nor were they
consumed with enthusiastic admiration for French art and literature.
They were merely some fifteen very practical Brunswick commercial men,
who, realising that a good working knowledge of English and French
would prove extremely useful to them in their business relations, met
at each other's houses in rotation on one night a week during the
winter months, when the host of the evening provided copious supplies
of wine, beer and cigars. For one hour and a half the members of the
Club had to talk English or French as the case might be, under a
penalty of a fine of one thaler (three shillings) for every lapse into
their native German. Mr. Spiegelberg informed me that I had been
elected an honorary member of the English and French Club, which
flattered my vanity enormously at the time. In the light of more mature
experience I quite understand that the presence of a youth to whom
knotty points in both languages could be submitted would be a
considerable asset to the Club, but I then attributed my election
solely to my engaging personality. These Club evenings amused me
enormously, though incidentally they resulted in my acquiring a
precocious love of strong, rank Hamburg cigars. Let us imagine fifteen
portly, be-spectacled, middle-aged or elderly men seated around a table
groaning under a collection of bottles of all shapes and sizes,
addressing each other in laboured inverted English. The German love of
titles is a matter of common knowledge. All these business men had
honorific appellations which they translated into English and
introduced scrupulously into ev