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Chap. I.
BATHING-PLACE LIFE.
13
Breakfast here comes off in the open air—sub
teg-mine fagi. The German women, who do nothing but
knit the livelong day, and the men, who smoke long
pipes innumerable, make some odd arrangements about
their tea equipage: they pay so much per diem for the
use of the cups and saucers and “ thé-wasser,” finding
their own edibles. It serves to kill time at any rate:
first, in the morning, comes a woman from Kiel bearing
a covered basket containing long rolls and various
petits pains; later arrives the butte/-carrier, then the
cream, and then a fourth with a basket of what they
call “ delicatessen ”—smoked eels and mackerel. All
this may be very amusing, I dare say; but return ten
minutes too late from your bath, or over-sleep yourself,
your déjeüner is manqué, the milk-woman is no more
to be found, or you breakfast butterless; so we prefer
taking our own from the hotel direct.
I must say the German ladies are most economical,
and turn everything in this world to the best account.
My neighbour at the table-d’hote, who dines well got
up, with beautiful blue rosettes (like a horse) in her
hind-hair, daily perpetrates “a fine wash” of collars,
sleeves, and such like, with the remains of her
thé-wasser. Breakfast concluded, she empties the urn into
a basin, and, when the articles are cleansed and wrung
out, places them to dry on her window-sill, with a
pebble on each to preserve them from all treacherous
gusts of wind.
The heat is still most oppressive, and during the
daytime we lie by; but towards evening and sunset
the jalousies are again unclosed, people flock out,
carriages come round, and the beechen iorests are filled
with promenaders, sketchers, and workers. Nothing
can be more beautiful, more cool than these beechen
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