that every
Englishman is mad. They are as convinced of it as is every English
peasant that Frenchmen live on frogs. Even when one makes a direct
personal effort to disabuse them of the impression one is not always
successful.

It was a comfortable little restaurant, where they cooked well, while the
Tischwein was really most passable. We stopped there for a couple of
hours, and dried ourselves and fed ourselves, and talked about the view;
and just before we left an incident occurred that shows how much more
stirring in this world are the influences of evil compared with those of
good.

A traveller entered. He seemed a careworn man. He carried a brick in
his hand, tied to a piece of rope. He entered nervously and hurriedly,
closed the door carefully behind him, saw to it that it was fastened,
peered out of the window long and earnestly, and then, with a sigh of
relief, laid his brick upon the bench beside him and called for food and
drink.

There was something mysterious about the whole affair. One wondered what
he was going to do with the brick, why he had closed the door so
carefully, why he had looked so anxiously from the window; but his aspect
was too wretched to invite conversation, and we forbore, therefore, to
ask him questions. As he ate and drank he grew more cheerful, sighed
less often. Later he stretched his legs, lit an evil-smelling cigar, and
puffed in calm contentment.

Then it happened. It happened too suddenly for any detailed explanation
of the thing to be possible. I recollect a Fraulein entering the room
from the kitchen with a pan in her hand. I saw her cross to the outer
door. The next moment the whole room was in an uproar. One was reminded
of those pantomime transformation scenes where, from among floating
clouds, slow music, waving flowers, and reclining fairies, one is
suddenly transported into the midst of shouting policemen tumbling
yelling babies, swells fighting pantaloons, sausages and harlequins,
buttered slides and clowns. As the Fraulein of the pan touched the door
it flew open, as though all the spirits of sin had been pressed against
it, waiting. Two pigs and a chicken rushed into the room; a cat that had
been sleeping on a beer-barrel spluttered into fiery life. The Fraulein
threw her pan into the air and lay down on the floor. The gentleman with
the brick sprang to his feet, upsetting the table before him with
everything upon it.

One looked to see the cause