declaim them. Presently another jolly mason
cried out over a drinking song, declaimed
among the others in a loud monotonous bawl,
"I know that song," and having hemmed and
tuned his voice a little, broke out into music
with tremendous power. The example
warmed the others; they began to look out
songs with choruses, and so continued singing
to the praise of wine and beauty out of my
book, until they were warned home by the
host. I climbed a ladder to my bedroom,
and slept well. The Grenadier was not an
expensive hotel, for in the morning when I
paid my bill for bed and breakfast, I found
that the accommodation cost me fourpence-
halfpenny.

Since it is my desire not to fatigue the
reader of this uneventful narrative, but
simply to illustrate by a few notes drawn
from my own experience the life of a German
workman on the tramp, I shall now pass
over a portion of the road between Hamburgh
and Berlin in silence. My way lay through
Schwerin, and having spent a night in that
exceedingly neat city beside its pleasant
waters, and under the protection of the
cannon in the antiquated castle overhead, I
set out for a walk of twenty miles onward
to Ludwigslust. The road was a pleasant
one, firm and dry, with trim grass edgings
and sylvan seats on either side. The country
itself was flat and dull, enlivened only now
and then by a fir plantation or a pretty village.
Brother tramps passed me from time to time
with a cheerful salutation, and at three
o'clock I passed within the new brick walls
of Ludwigslust, a town dignified as a pleasure
seat with a military garrison, a ducal palace,
and an English park.

At the inn to which I went in Ludwigslust,
the house of call for carpenters, I was in
luck. The carpenters were there assembled
in great force, laughing, smoking, and enjoying
their red wine, that may have come from
France, for Mecklenburg is no wine country.
It was the quarter-day and pay-day of the
carpenters, who were about to celebrate the date
as usual with a supper. I went to sit down
in the small travellers' room, and was
invaded instantly by the whole army of joiners,
with bleared eyes, flushed faces under caps
of every shape and colour, and a flexible pipe
hanging from every mouth—Who was I?
What was I?—Whence did I come?—Where
was I born? and whither was I going? &c.,
&c. When they had found out all about me
and confirmed their knowledge by examination
of my passport, which one dull dog
persisted in regarding as a book of ballads,
out of which he sang, I began to ask
concerning food. "Nothing warm in the house,"
said the housefather, a carpenter himself.
"There will be a grand supper at six o'clock,
and everything and everybody is wanted in
the preparation of it. Make yourself easy
for the present with brown bread and dripping
and a glass of beer, then you can make your
dinner with us when we sup." That suited
me quite well.

The carpenters flowed out into the street,
to take a stroll and get their appetites,
leaving behind them one besotted man, who
propped himself against the oven, and there
gave himself a lecture on the blessings of
equanimity under all circumstances of distress.

"Do you sleep here to-night?" inquired
the host. Certainly, I desired to do so.
"Then you must go to the police bureau for a
permission."—" But you have my passport;
is not that sufficient?"—"Not in Ludwigslust;
your passport must be held by the police,
and they will give you in exchange for it a
ticket, which I must hold, or else I dare not
let you have a lodging." I went to the police
office at once; through the ill-paved street
into the middle of the town. I went by a
large gravelled square, which serves as a
riding ground for the cavalry in the adjoining
barracks; and a long broad street of no great
beauty, ending in a flight of steps, led me
then to the police office, and would have led
me also, had that been my destination, to the
ducal palace. The palace fronts to a paved
square, it is a massive, noble edifice of stone,
having before it a fine cascade with a treble
fall. To the left across a green meadow, I
observed the church—the only church—a
simple whitewashed building with a colonnaded
front. At the foot of the low flight
of steps was the police office, in which I found
one man who civilly copied my passport into
a book, put it aside, and gave me a ticket of
permission to remain one night in Ludwigslust.
I was desired to call for my passport
before leaving in the morning.

At seven o'clock there was no sign of supper.
At eight o'clock the cloth was spread in a
long, low lumber room at the back of the
inn, and the assembled carpenters took their
seats before the board, or rather boards
supported upon tressels. I took my place and
waited hungrily. Very soon there was a great
steam over the whole table sent up from huge
tureens of boiled potatoes; smaller dishes of
preserved prunes, boiled also, occupied the
intervals. A bottle of red wine was placed
for every two men. We then began our
meal with soup; thin, sorry stuff. Then
came the chief dishes, baked veal and baked
pig's head. The prunes were to be eaten
with the veal, which meat having been first
boiled to make the soup, and then baked in
a deep dish in a close oven to bring out some
of the faded flavour, was a sodden mass,
removed a very long way from the roast fillet
of veal and pickled pork known to an Englishman.
Our pig's head was, however, capital,
and no soup had been made out of it. The
carpenters with assiduous kindness heaped
choice bits upon my plate, and as I had not
dined, I supped with energy. The drunken
man who had fallen asleep by the stove sat
by my side with greedy looks, eating nothing,