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Page 318 text:
"Schneit es?" Again that same harmonious chorus, "Nein!" fThe Doktor can scarcely
control his satisfactionj
"Dann, was tut es?"
A moment's silence, until their logic tells them that what has pleased will please, and in
unison comes the cry, "Ncin!" The Doktor's countenance changes, but he hastcns to settle the
next question: '
"Wie viel Uhr ist es?"
Instantly there is a display of time-pieces, none of which record the same, and again amidst
the confused babble of varying German tongues, that same decisive voice comes to the rescue
with its infallible decision, and we all bow in submission, while even the Doktor directs an awed
look toward this newly discovered prodigy.
When the Doktor had settled these preliminary facts to his evident satisfaction, he takes a
careful survey of the class before beginning his individual catechism and utters these mysterious
words: "Sie miissen aufsasseng Sie werden nie etwas lernen!" The class in a quandary didn't
know whether this was a reproof or a jest, and consequently were in doubt whether they shoulfl
put on an appearance of humiliation or should show an appreciation of a joke, but finally that
venturcsome Miller Qhe's from P'burg, and is always making mistakesj laughs aloud followed by
the class. The Doktor, who is also human, thinks of some appropriate remarks: but, since he
is also noble, checks himself and in agitated but calm tones begins:
"Herr Palmer! Stchen sie auf I"
Herr Palmer hearing his name hastily and steathily closes his book and looks guiltily and
confusedly toward the Doktor. The Doktor, who is also patient, repeats:
"Stehen sic auf!"
He would still have remained immovable but the mighty prowess of Pryce the almost won
Bruce's cupj pushed him up bodily and Palmer was on his feet. With that unearthly and in-
imitable look on his face, he awaited the Doktor's attack, it came.
"Wie alt sind sie?"
Palmer with a ring of triumph in his tone answers:
The Doktor-"Was ?"
The Doktor almost overcome, rises from his chair, approaches the window with a iirm step,
opens it, breathes a little air, and again courageously faces the class looking for a second victim.
The silence among the class is impossible, the Doktor's look is ominous, no one ventures to move,
Palmer slowly sinks into his seat. Suddenly: I
"Herr Miller R.! Stehen sie auf l" tThe tone was indulgent.j
Miller immediately suited his action to the command and waited. The question came:
"Sind Sie aufmerksam?"
Herr Miller is silent. The Doktor, who is also sympathetic, kindly asks him "Verstehen Sic?"
whereupon Herr Miller, who in his embarrassment began to lean heavily on his desk-arm, com-
prehending only the stehen, instinctively stood erect, and continued to direct his vacant stare
toward the Doktor.
"K6nnen Sie nicht sprechen ?" QThe tone denoted approaching in1paticnce.j
Not a muscle moves in Miller: not a sound issues: one is only conscious of that in1mortal,
3 1 1
Page 317 text:
The Progressiveness of Doktor Rushem
IN this age of changing and constantly varying methods in the educational system of
administering punishment, we arc pleased to learn that at least one of our beloved faculty,
the learned Doktor Rushem, professor of German, has kept abreast with the times and is using
the most up-to-date and extremely interesting method of instilling that delightful language into
non-receptive eraniums. "The grammar through the language, and not the language through
the grammar," is the motto which daily inspires highly intelligent and really practical conversa-
tions in pure German between the Doktor and his dilatory students.
Our purpose is here to extol the usefulness and practicability of the system, and the infinite
wisdom of our Doktor. We can do this best by merely presenting to you a sample of one of the
daily recitations in its minutest details.
As the 1914 classieals Cthey were the first fortunate beings to be diverted by this experimentj
filed into the room, they were greeted by the cheery salutation of the Doktor.
tg "Guten Morgenf' V
Not seeing the logical reply, all compromised by keeping silence, but with beaming smiles
of comprehension upon their intelligent visages.
After casting a characteristic quick and penetrating German glance about the class, the
Doktor put a question which had already become habitual:
"Wo ist Herr Moffat?"
Here Herr Moffat comes into the room actually appearing as if he had exerted himself to get
there. His appearance did not prevent the Doktor from directing toward him a rapid cross
fire of German which made the wretched Herr Moffat stare helplessly at the Doktor for mercy
and then imploringly toward the class for pity. The Doktor, who is compassionate, pitied him
and concluded his eloquent philippic by asking the simple question, "Warum sind sie spat?"
This question aroused such pleasant memories of the preceding night in our hero that his tongue
could not articulate an English word, not to mention Deutsch. Our Doktor, who is also merciful,
left him to quench his blushes and continued the recitation. '
The opening remarks which follow are usually given each morning in order to help us get our
bearings and settle the disputes about the weather, etc., in order that the class may proceed
The Doktor: "Was ist heute?"
The class immediately began to dispute the day of the week so vehemently that our Doktor
was both pleased at the enthusiasm and fearful of the results. At this juncture our hitherto
silent brother Laird said in a loud and emphatic tone which would brook no denial, "Heute ist
nicht gestern." QWhat infinite wisdom.j
The Doktor: "Wie ist das WetterP"
So many different opinions were advanced in so many different languages, that no end seemed
near, until the same invincible authority shouted in his stentorian voice: "Es ist hell!" fWhat an
After the Doktor east a grateful look toward this hopeful pupil, he continued his catechism:
The class in a unanimous voice, "Neinl" CThe Doktor looks pleasedj
Page 319 text:
The Doktor finally gets impatient Cwe cannot blame himj but seeks for a justification of his
next step, when he recalls that famous German proverb. With a brightening countenance he
"Zeit ist Geld!"
The class is almost vanquished by this wisdom, but that most brilliant wit of all South
Easton, Hen Miller F., shouts, but
"Schweigen ist Gold."
The Doktor's sense of justice recognizes the truth of this, and himself vanquished addresses
Miller R. with
"Setzen Sie sich !"
Miller mechanically sits down Qthis expression being understood by all not so much by its
exact meaning as by the movement which habitually follows itj.
The Doktor now seemed to be looking for a more hopeful case as he scanned our countenances.
His glasses must have been blurred for he mistook for a pure German one the Pennsylvania-Dutch
countenance of Fegley, whom he called on with an air of confident assurance:
"Herr Fegley-Ist der Winter kalt oder warm?" -
Fegley's answer, in pure Allentown dialect of Penna.-Dutch, is omitted by the express
request of the Doktor. That excellent man, mastering his rising disgust with admirable self-
control, hastened to the door and opened it as if to let out the air polluted by such a language.
Recovered, he returns and mercilessly vanquishes the unsuspecting Fegley by looking him
sternly in the eye, and contemptuously pronouncing these magical words.
"Das ist nicht Deutscli !! " '
Fegley, humbled, meekly ventures to sit down.
The Doktor, nodding his approval of this last action, resumes:
"Herr Ketchleclge, Wann gehe11 Sie zu Bett? "
Misintcrpreting the question our elongated hero answers, "Neinl "
The Doktor misunderstanding the answer shouts: "Auf Deutsch! Auf Deutsch! Sie miissen
Deutsch spreehen, nicht English! "
This avalanche of Teutonic philosophy Cfor such we suppose itj almost stupefies our hero,
who looks blankly at the Doktor, who being also compassionate kindly explains what is wanted,
and Herr Ketchledge inspired by that prodigy, Laird, answers:
The Doktor was so confounded to find such wisdom in one who hails from Easton that he
wholly overlooked the English answer, and for a couple of moments was speechless. Finally
he recovers just in time to catch the class napping. He exclaims!
"Herr Spotts! Schlafcn Sie?"
Herr S. Cmeeklyj-"ja." '
Herr Spotts, who is at a loss for an answer, not knowing whether the word signified why,
which, wherefore, or what, eventually answers:
"Ich Weiss nicht."
The Doktor now began to launch out into a tiradc against the class but, seeing in DeWces,
who is eager to shine, a last hope, he calls on him.
"Herr DeWces, Was tun Sie mit den Lippen?"
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