24 CHAPTER III. UNCLE JOHN MAKES A MUDDLE OF HIS GERMAN AT COLOGNE. ND now we are really on the Rhine! Papa says that I am to write down everything I see and hear, for you, dear Edith, to read at home; but I do not know at which end to begin. Oh! dear, Do you want to know all about Cologne? dear, what a ravelled skein I have to untangle in order to give you any idea of my impressions and experiences! Of course you have read that Cologne is one of the oldest Roman towns of the Rhine; that Agrippina the mother of Nero (my abomination), was born here in her father's camp; that here Trajan was first called to the dignity of Roman emperor; that it carries on a large trade; that it has one of the most splendid cathedrals in the world, which was begun in the thirteenth century, and no one ever expects to see finished; that here live numbers of Farinas who sell Eau de Cologne; that one is thankful to get it so cheap on account of the unpleasant smells abounding; that you meet English travellers with red books under their arms at every turn. It would be absurd for me to attempt a description of everything to be seen at Cologne, in the style of Mr. Murray's handbook-since I could not speak correctly of what I had not seen and enjoyed. Papa is not one, you know, to rush from place to place just because every one else does. He likes better to see a few grand sights and see them well. At Cologne therefore we gave our time principally to the Dom and the streets; for papa always says there is more to be seen and learned in the streets of a foreign town, than in all the fine buildings put together. First, the Cathedral. Picture to yourself, Edith, an immense mass of arches, columns, pinnacles, gothic windows, elaborate carvings and friezes, joined to what looks like a grand carpenter's shop, with scaffoldings, ladders, beating of hammers, rafters, beams, wooden frames and iron pulleys. Papa says he believes that the building was begun in the age of some magicians, who were brought to an end a few hours before they expected, and consequently left a halffinished work behind them. Little Jessie was delighted beyond measure with this comparison, but when papa grew grave in the contemplation of so much grandeur, and repeated these lines from Milton, I felt that the last one was the best "Anon, out of the earth, a fabric huge With golden architrave: nor did there want Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence When we entered, the tears came into my eyes, and even Jessie spoke in whispers. Oh! Edith, the sight of such noble work always makes me long wistfully to know the workers. What minds they must have had to design a place like this! What delicate hands to carry out their ideas! What humble faith in themselves, what self-reliance, what patience! Looking on the dazzling windows in which seem melted every jewel under the sun, the graceful pillars and arches, the finely carved stalls and decorated frescoes, I thought what noble monuments of hidden lives they were, and how much better it is to live in men's minds by good works than by pompous tombstones or obelisks. I must not forget to tell you that we saw the shrine of the Three Kings, Gasper, Melchior, and Balthazar, who presented gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the Infant Saviour. You must know that Barbarossa took possession of their skulls in the pillaging of Milan-how they got to Milan the man did not tell us, as papa says; but from Milan they got to Cologne, where you may see them all crowned with false jewels and silver gilt, for paying a few shillings. When I say false jewels, I mean that a great many are only imitations of the really valuable ones which formerly decorated the shrine, but have been by degrees sold. Even now there are costly cameos, gems, precious stones, and rich enamels, to the value of many thousand pounds. One funny incident more and then I must go on to something else. Papa, Mil, and Harry had mounted the gallery in order to get a good view of the town, leaving Uncle John, Jess, and myself below. Whilst wandering up and down, a very harmless-looking man came up, bowed politely, and began to speak to us in very comical English. He called me "lady," "Uncle John, "my sir," and Jess, the "princess child." After hammering out a good many words that had no more connexion than so many loose beads lying on the floor, Uncle John, referring to Murray's handbook of conversation, gave us to understand that this gentleman kindly offered to show us something very grand. We followed our guide into the street, Uncle John quite delighted at finding some one able to understand his German, which he did evidently, as he nodded his head constantly. After a turn or two he stopped before a small shop, motioning us to enter. The shopman looked at Uncle John. Uncle John looked at the shopman. "What on earth did that fellow bring us here for, Midsie?" said our uncle, looking quite uncomfortable. "Is he outside, there?" No, he was gone. Jessie began to giggle, I had great ado to keep my countenance, when, to my amazement, the shopman brought out a large case of Eau de Cologne in small bottles! This, then, was what we had come for-to buy Eau de Cologne. Uncle John would have bought a hundred bottles however, rather than be joked at hy papa about his German. "That fellow is no German himself, Midsie," he said; depend on it, he comes from Holland or Flanders; he couldn't understand a word I said to him." We met papa at the cathedral doors, and how he joked at us! "Never mind, girls," he cried; "the more Uncle Jack gets misunderstood, the better for you. He has filled your pockets with bottles of Eau de Cologne to-day, and will be enticed into filling them with sausages to-morrow. Jack, my boy, if you go on speaking German at this expensive rate you'll go home to your disconsolate Susan a beggar—” There was something so ludicrous in papa's grimace, and in his manner of saying "Jack, my boy”—a name by which he never called my uncle, except in his most absurd humours, that we all burst out laughing, and Uncle John seeing there was no help for it, laughed with us. We lodged at the Hotel Bellevue in Deutz, and had the most spacious bedrooms one could desire, with clean bare floors, handsome furniture, and large windows looking out on to the beer and coffee gardens. Deutz is an old town, or fragment of one, on the opposite bank of the Rhine, and is connected with Cologne by a bridge of boats; it is, indeed, so old, as to be reputed the encampment of King Teuto, the founder of the German empire. But without asking you to believe so far-fetched a story, Deutz, you must know, was the Tuitium of the Romans; and its present name is derived from a castle built there by Constantine the Great, called Monimentum Dutienza, and destroyed in the tenth century. Perhaps you will like better to hear of the pleasure parties we saw in the coffee gardens, last night. Nothing could be prettier or pleasanter. The gardens slope down to the river, and you gain from them a good view of Cologne, with its grand half-finished cathedral, its roofs and spires. Numbers of gaily dressed people kept flocking over the bridge, and we had some difficulty in procuring a little table and chairs, for we intended to enjoy ourselves in the real German way. At last, we procured a mug of coffee, fruitcakes, rolls and cheese. Soon the band struck up some waltzes of Strauss, and then every one looked quite happy. A great many ladies had brought their knitting, and knitted whilst they talked; of course every gentleman smoked over |