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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?"
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 320 text:
"Sammy" Qwho has what Prof. Owen calls the aesthetic sensej blushes crimson and shifts
in his embarrassment from one foot to another until he meets the glance of our prodigy. Thus
inspired he skilfully evades and answers:
"Mit den Lippen sprechen wir."
The Doktor no less surprised by the ingenuity as by the correctness of the answer ventures
to ask another.
"Was tun Sie mit den Handen ?"
But this was too much. "Sammy's" aesthetic sense got so much control of him this time that
he disclained to give such a prosaic answer as before, and his confusion and the pleasant memories
aroused prevented any other. For once our prodigy failed.
The Doktor, already repenting for having tried to make too much of a good thing, made
ample apologies which we can not here recollect, but ends with:
"Sic mogen sich setzenf'
Sammy intelligently obeys.
The Doktor, looking at his watch, hastily resumes:
"Herr Klein! Gehen Sie an die Tafelf' '
The Herr addressed, if not understanding the words, could not doubt the sweeping gesture:
and starts toward the board.
The Doktor Cagain consulting his watchj, "Schnell."
Herr Klein halts.
The Doktor shouts: "Scheller, Schnellerf'
Klein fwho takes Prof. Mecklinj has logic enough to feel assured that if he wasn't meant
to stop, he was to go on. This he does hastily. The Doktor seeing such an unusual sign of
intelligence is satisfied and so says: ,
"Setzen Sie sich! Das ist genung!"
Herr Klein, only understanding the first part, looks doubtfully toward the Doktor and then
toward the floor, but finally resolutely and defiantly goes to his seat, and sits down there.
Now the Doktor begins to give the class an interesting German account of how grain is sowed,
thrcshed, made into bread, etc., but Herr Miller, who comes from the outlying districts, interrupts
and blandly but courteously informs the Doktor that the field is first harrowed and then planted.
Seeing that the class was not appreciating his efforts, he began the last part in the recitation.
Up to this time, the Doktor led the conversation. Now the Doktor leaves it all to the class
to ask one another questions and converse.
Herr Spotts was to open the conversation. Noticing the far-away look in the eyes of Herr
Klein, he asks:
"Herr Klein, wie heiszt sie?"
Taken unawares Herr Klein in a rapturous tone begins, "sie heiszt-," but suddenly realizing
the reality of things saucily replies, "Was ist das zu you?" fthe Doktor has become engrossed in
an illustrated German magazine, and is oblivious to the errors of his young hopefulsj.
In turn Klein asks:
"Herr Miller F., bist du hier?" 4
"Nein! Ich bin da!" Csarcasticallyj "Herr Pryce, wie spat waren Sie aus last night."
tThe Doktor's smile broadens as he regards the beauty of the picture from all angles. Either
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