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12 DÜSTERNBROOK. Chap. I.
Lust by name, a very ugly name too (I feel quite
inclined to exclaim with Mrs. Quickly, in the Hie, Hæc,
Hoc scene, “ Out upon Wilhelmina’s case! ”) : but
Wilhelmina’s Lust did not contain eight beds—indeed I
have come long ago to the opinion, that, though nothing
is more pretty than a Swiss cottage, nothing is more
uncomfortable to live in; those deep, shelving roofs
take up half the room—so we ended by pitching our
quarters at the Hotel Diisternbrook, an oblong,
sensible house, with square rooms, and no corners cut off
for outside show or any such vagaries, with a garden
and shade, a good, clean, wholesome cuisine, well dressed,
and plenty of it.
September.—We are now quietly shaken down in our
new abode, and living the usual life of bathers in this
world—rise early, very early; off to bathe by six—not
an affair of choice, for the bands begin to play and all
the world’s astir by that early hour. Rise when I may,
look out of window in my dressing-gown, I find the
Germans up, dressed, and, I hope, washed, drinking their
coffee in the garden, and, instead of being proud of my
activity, feel somewhat humbled, and sneak off en
deshabille, running the gauntlet of the crowd of
coffeedrinkers on my way.
We pass across the garden of the great
establishment, embark on a narrow wooden bridge, gain the
floating raft on which the bath-cabins are constructed,
and plunge headlong into some fifty feet of pure limpid
water. It is glorious bathing, and I now no longer
regret the tide, which in our own country is always out,
or away, or somewhere, at any rate never in, when one
wishes it to be. The Baltic is not blessed with one, so
it’s as well to make up one’s mind to its absence.
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