Our Little German Cousin

"The schoolmaster told us boys yesterday about the grand palace at Berlin. The emperor lives in it when he is in the city," said Hans, wheeling around suddenly and stopping in front of Bertha.

"I think you must have caught my thoughts," said the little girl, "for the emperor was in my mind when you began to speak."

"Well, never mind that. Do you wish to hear about the palace?"

"Of course I do, Hans."

"The schoolmaster says it has six hundred rooms. Just think of it! And one of them, called the White Room, is furnished so grandly that 2,400,000 marks were spent on it. You can't imagine it, Bertha, of course. I can't, either."

A German mark is worth about twenty-four cents of American money, so the furnishing of the room Hans spoke of must have cost about $600,000. It was a large sum, and it is no wonder the boy said he could hardly imagine so much money.

"There are hundreds of halls in the palace," Hans went on. "Some of their walls are painted and others are hung with elegant silk draperies. The floors are polished so they shine like mirrors. Then the pictures and the armour, Bertha! It almost seemed as though I were there while the schoolmaster was describing them."

"I never expect to see such lovely things," said his sober little sister. "But perhaps I shall go to Berlin some day, Hans. Then I can see the statue of Frederick the Great, at any rate."

"It stands opposite the palace," said her brother, "and cost more than any other bronze statue in the world."

"How did you learn that, Hans?"

"The schoolmaster told us so. He said, too, that it ought to stir the blood of every true German to look at it. There the great Frederick sits on horseback, wearing the robe in which he was crowned, and looking out from under his cocked hat with his bright, sharp eyes. That statue alone is enough to make the soldiers who march past it ready to give their lives for their country."

"He lived when the different kingdoms were separated from each other, and there was no one ruler over all of them. I know that," said Bertha.

"Yes, he was the King of Prussia. And he fought the Seven Years' War with France and came out victorious. Hardly any one thought he could succeed, for there was so much against him. But he was brave and determined. Those two things were worth everything else."

"That wasn't the only war he won, either, Hans."

"No, but it must have been the greatest. Did you know, Bertha, that he was unhappy when he was young? His father was so strict that he tried to run away from Germany with two of his friends. The king found out what they meant to do. One of the friends was put to death, and the other managed to escape."

"What did his father do to Frederick?" Bertha's eyes were full of pity for a prince who was so unhappy as to wish to run away.

"The king ordered his son to be put to death. But I suppose he was angry at the time, for he changed his mind before the sentence was carried out, and forgave him."

"I wonder how kings and emperors live," said Bertha, slowly. It seemed as though everything must be different with them from what it was with other people.

"I'll tell you about Frederick, if you wish to listen."

"Of course I do, Hans."

"In the first place, he didn't care anything about fine clothes, even if he was a king and was born in the grand palace at Berlin. His coat was often very shabby.

"In the next place, he slept only about four hours out of the whole twenty-four for a good many years. He got up at three o'clock on summer mornings, and in the winter-time he was always dressed by five, at the very latest.

"While his hair-dresser was at work, he opened his most important letters. After that, he attended to other business affairs of the country. These things were done before eating or drinking. But when they had been attended to, the king went into his writing-room and drank a number of glasses of cold water. As he wrote, he sipped coffee and ate a little fruit from time to time.

"He loved music very dearly, and sometimes rested from his work and played on his flute.

"Dinner was the only regular meal of the day. It was served at twelve o'clock, and lasted three or four hours. There was a bill of fare, and the names of the cooks were given as well as the dishes they prepared."

"Did the king ever let them know whether he was pleased or not with their cooking?" asked Bertha.

"Yes. He marked the dishes he liked best with a cross. He enjoyed his dinner, and generally had a number of friends to eat with him. There was much joking, and there were many clever speeches.

"When the meal was over, the king played on his flute a short time, and then attended to more business."

"Did he work till bedtime, Hans?"

"Oh, no. In the evening there was a concert or lecture, or something like that. But, all the same, the king was a hardworking man, even in times of peace."

"He loved his people dearly, father once told me," said Bertha. "He said he understood his subjects and they understood him."

"Yes, and that reminds me of a story the schoolmaster told. King Frederick was once riding through the street when he saw a crowd of people gathered together. He said to his groom, 'Go and see what is the matter.' The man came back and told the king that the people were all looking at a caricature of Frederick himself. A caricature, you know, is a comical portrait.

"Perhaps you think the king was angry when he heard this. Not at all. He said, 'Go and hang the picture lower down, so they will not have to stretch their necks to see it.'

"The crowd heard the words. 'Hurrah for the king!' they cried. At the same time, they began to tear the picture into pieces."

"Frederick the Great could appreciate a joke," said Bertha. "I should think the people must have loved him."

"He had some fine buildings put up in his lifetime," Hans went on. "A new palace was built in Berlin, besides another one the king called 'Sans Souci.' Those are French words meaning, 'Without a Care.' He called the place by that name because he said he was free-hearted and untroubled while he stayed there.

"I've told you these things because you are a girl. But I'll tell you what I like to think of best of all. It's the stories of the wars in which he fought and in which he showed such wonderful courage. So, hurrah for Frederick the Great, King of Prussia!"

Hans made a salute as though he stood in the presence of the great king. Then he started for the wood-pile, where he was soon sawing logs with as much energy as if he were fighting against the enemies of his country.

CHAPTER VII.

THE BRAVE PRINCESS

"Listen, children! That must be the song of a nightingale. How sweet it is!"

It was a lovely Sunday afternoon. Every one in the family had been to church in the morning, and come home to a good dinner of bean soup and potato salad. Then the father had said:

"Let us take a long walk over the fields and through the woods. The world is beautiful to-day. We can enjoy it best by leaving the house behind us."

Some of the neighbours joined the merry party. The men smoked their pipes, while the women chatted together and the children frolicked about them and picked wild flowers.

How many sweet smells there were in the fields! How gaily the birds sang! The air seemed full of peace and joy.

They all wandered on till they came to a cascade flowing down over some high rocks. Trees grew close to the waterfall, and bent over it as though to hide it from curious eyes. It was a pretty spot.

"Let us sit down at the foot of this cascade," said Bertha's father. "It is a pleasant place to rest."

Every one liked the plan. Bertha nestled close to her father's side.

"Tell us a story. Please do," she said.

"Ask neighbour Abel. He knows many a legend of just such places as this. He has lived in the Hartz Mountains, and they are filled with fairy stories."