/\ ^//^^S ./y^^^^%. .o^-ooj.-..v >v.' .0 6 1^ • ip v . •l'^ _/%. •.^.' ^^% ''^W.' /\. •-^•' ** ?»■ "bv" .". '-^Ao* :« i°-n*.. ,^- 'oK V.0^ * ^V <^o "i^^T*\o'^ '^^'^T?^o.*\.^'' ^' - .^•^^^ ^^ ^^ . ♦jJ=esf^%^'*^ O .^T^ aO^ .•!nL% '> ^^ -.• .{'«'* ^^.c,^^ ^Pb '• \.** * ^Ao^ '' %,^^'- "'- ^^^ J^ •'f^Si^'- '^^ A^ ' *: ^jv V ^ rr\ A^ J w ^ E^ ^ ^ A V ^ ^, ^ y K K A k \ A w ^ p ' k \ ' Inv er 7 iti m 01 on 1 th of in \ W v BfTtYj 1 r k Si jg A '^ ^ \ r % A J ^ ^ \ f ■-^ ^^ ^ v'^ ^/ ^ ^ A ^ y / ^ ^ ^ 1 r y^ T ^ 1 ^ ^ r^ ^ # ^ ^ i 77 ^ %k /^ = z: <^ r N '^^'^ ^ f 7 ■^ % ^ ' — 1 i ^ t \ %\ / — ^ Invention of Marie Potzschl(e 8 years old school garden Chemnitzerstrasse 19 DRESDEN. CHAPTER VIII NEGRO FOLK For any one enthusiastic as I am in the cause of the education of the people, and eager to employ the new method of Froebel wherever it can be of benefit, it is of absorbing interest to observe the development of this large and growing class — the negro race of America. It is all the more interesting because it is not a savage people living in a state of nature, but a people having lived for long years in the midst of a civiliza- tion in which it has but lately taken part, and side by side with a highly intelligent culture which it also aspires to reach. It is indeed gratifying to see how much is being done for the education of the negro, who we must acknowledge with pleasure is eager and ambitious to acquire knowledge. As a colored porter, who, besides his occupation, was studying to become a teacher, said to me, " We are always working to raise ourselves." The duty of giving these people the education and necessary development through the best and most practical means, lies naturally with their white breth- ren, who have a great responsibility. The right 6S 66 Greeting to America education for them must be one that will tend to de- velop them in many directions, and must not be one sided. For the negroes who in many Southern States outnumber the whites, an education must be given that will respond to their needs and conditions, for up to thirty years ago this people worked at man- ual labor only. It must appeal to every thinker that Froebel's method would be of inconceivable value when applied to the education of the colored people, whose development must not be along the lines of intellectual training only or in the so-called " school- ing " given, but body and mind must he taught to zvork in harmony. In the universal desire of the American for cul- ture, and for the extension of their philanthropic work, too much is being done in some directions, per- haps, and in others many necessary details are often overlooked. But in a large school for colored children in St. Louis, I saw some very good handicraft work done by boys — not mechanically done, but as the children said, by following the Froebel method. But of the practical work of the girls I saw nothing; I had hoped to find sewing in all its branches and other kindred occupations taught, for what could be more necessary for the colored girls to learn; 'at the same time being taught that the work done, by the hand is not degrading, hut when done well is most honorable. When Froebel's method is prop- erly introduced into the school system, and especially Negro Folk 67 taught in the higher classes for girls, then truly will come the regeneration of the negro class. If I do not err, and saw rightly during my short trip, I thought I detected sometimes the beginning of a somewhat overbearing manner in the negro who had been educated in a one-sided way. I fear some- times white people in the South have had their ex- perience with the overbearing negro, and might be able to trace the cause. I fear, too, the U^gro for- gets at times that his development is a matter of only thirty years or so, and cannot be the same as that of the white people, who have such a long history of civilization behind them. That the little negro children whom I studied in their Kindergartens and schools interested me be- yond measure, can be imagined. A great deal of intelligence looked out of their large, glistening eyes, and some of the little ones had even learned in my honor, our German patriotic " Wacht am Rhein," and as the large, red-lipped mouths recited by heart the wonderfully pronounced German words, and the eyes twinkled and shone, it was a veritable picture. And again when in one school the children sang the verse " Blau bliiht ein Blumelein " — " Blue blooms a little floweret," — and pointed the while at my blue eyes, their singing was as charming as the thought of their teacher, who had suggested it. The negro is amiability itself to the stranger; per- sonally I was most favorably impressed, for as soon 68 Greeting to America as the negroes learned that I was interested in the education of their Httle ones, they were most thank- ful, and showed their appreciation in many ways. They celebrated, while I was in St. Louis, the anni- versary of their emancipation, and gave me a box for the performance at the theatre where they held their exercises. There I saw an immense gathering of negroes, and I remarked that it was indeed very hard to tell the age of a negro. Most agreeable is he in service — as servant, waiter, and as porter. I learned to value the negro who seems born to " serve and wait." Although in Italy and in many European coun- tries we are quite accustomed to men servants in bed rooms, I could not get used in America to seeing negroes about in such capacity. And when I learned that our waiter at table was preparing for a legal examination which he hoped to pass successfully, and that he was expected to attend to my apartments, the idea of having such a person as a servant, or giv- ing him a fee, seemed most extraordinary to me. A little anecdote apropos of these servants, I en- joyed immensely: A foreign lady objected to the abrupt entrance of a negro man servant into her room, saying, " I might be just dressing." " Never fear, madam, I always take care to look through the keyhole first." Most interesting was the following little experi- Negro Folk 69 ence enjoyed on our train. I had given the very black porter a glass of my wine, and offered a glass to the cook, who was standing by. The latter, a very light colored darkey, refused it, saying that he was a temperance man. To my laughing rejoinder that we are given everything by Nature for our use and enjoyment, and only the excess can be harmful, the porter agreed, saying, " But you see, madam, the cook here hasn't the right kind of blood in him. He is too pale — you must excuse him, he is stupid." So here too the full blooded, truly black negro feels a superiority over the half breed. Strange to say, the light colored cook did not seem to take offense at the words of the porter, but looked as people do when their bodily deficiencies are being discussed, half sad and embarrassed, and half happy to be thus com- miserated. At a reception in New York, I had the opportunity of hearing the celebrated negro songs of which so much has been said. The distinguished literateur, Mr. Geo. W. Cable, sang several of these melodies in masterly style to guitar accompaniment. Negro songs are very characteristic and touching — and very like, if I may so express it, smiles among tears. CHAPTER IX TRAIN, LANDSCAPES, DULUTH One of the first questions put to strangers in America is, "How do you like our railways?" ■When this was asked me for the first time, after I landed in New York, I scarcely knew how to answer, but seven weeks later my opinion could have been given founded on facts and experience. American railways are like all other things in the world. There are the good, bad and indifferent, and the peculiar ones. Stranger than all did I find the great number of black cats that I seemed to meet everywhere. As we were leaving New York to begin our travels, the first thing I saw was a black cat. She sat, to my horror, in the middle of the railway station waiting- room, so quiet and with the air of being at home despite the strange sights and noises everywhere about. In Germany a black cat is considered a bad omen, and people invariably turn back when encountering one. I therefore gave this cat a wide berth. Later I met black cats on the streets, in trains, and in the houses. Why always black cats ? No one had ever 70 Train, Landscapes, Duluth 71 seemed to observe their number, or could answer me. Finally I timidly asked the black porters, hoping that they would not take it amiss. They grinned in a most friendly way, shook their heads and always an- swered, " Well, I guess it is good luck; a black cat mitst be good luck." Many mice are also noticeable. In nearly all the large hotels I heard them in my rooms, and many times they appeared in the flesh. I found them no different from their European sisters and brothers, however, and one day, much to my amusement, a " mouse hunt " was inaugurated in my room, in which the darkies took part. With mouth stretched in a delighted grin, eyes gleaming and every feature expressive of the happiness of pursuit, the successful hunter finally caught and lifted the little offender by the tail and held him before me to see, all of us laugh- ing heartily as we watched the chase and capture. How often are these people just like children grown up a bit — and how naive I found them on my train travels; — like children they were interested in every- thing and even conducted me from one end of the train to the other. They always understood my in- terest in everything. I was shown the tiny kitchen, and must look into the boiling pots — and was even allowed a peep into the hidden cupboards that con- tained so many good wine bottles. Oh, Temper- ance, oh! — And how charmingly they enlightened me as to the names of everything. " We call it an 72 Greeting to America egg, madam, — and this is a baked potato, and we eat it in this way " — and the black hand squeezed the potato out of its peel onto my plate. So long as the weather was cool, I found the closed windows of the Pullman, which shut out the dust, very comfortable, but when it became hot, then I felt the closeness in the car, the upper ventilators not sufficing. I could also not get used to the nar- row corridors or passages leading out of the cars, which must be impassable it seems to me in case of fire or panic. The European coupe system is dif- ferent. Every time I tried to walk in the passage I found it impossible to steady myself, and I waved like a feather from side to side, with no small dam- age to my poor elbows. But the porters were usually on guard, and most respectfully would a black arm be stretched out towards me, and thus protected I was escorted without further injury, to the comfortable dining-car. But the climax of luxury is to be found in the parlor cars, which are most elegant in all their appointments. Here frequently while we sat chatting in our easy chairs to our astonishment the cars would come to an abrupt stop, our chairs wheel round sud- denly and we would find ourselves confronting a strange and equally astonished face. But one touch of the electric bell ready at hand, and the porter was there to readjust the chairs, and we were once again in our accustomed places and comforted. Then night came on and " sleepers " were in evidence, and 1 Train, Landscapes, Duluth 73 found the cars " less good," as I call it — for a lady on board ship told me it was not good form to say "I do not like it," but rather, " I prefer other things " — and so I think I will say of the Pullman sleeping cars " I prefer other things." At nightfall the cars are transformed into two rows of heavy curtained compartments, with the narrow passage between. Behind these curtains it is frightful, and I endured the " tenement-like " air only once. I had selected a lower berth, because the occupant of the upper one has to choose between suffocation or a draught of sharp night air blowing directly on his chest, but I felt all the while as though I were being- buried alive. It was amusing to watch the solicitude of the por- ter, who could not understand my distress, and every little while he would glance through the curtain at me. When I would pretend to be asleep he would go to Miss Hofer's berth, and wake her out of her sleep with the comforting message : " You can sleep in peace — She is sleeping like a child." After this one night's experience, I " preferred " naturally to be in a stateroom, where we could be more exclusive. I lay on the hard, narrow sofa with one arm and foot hanging out, and with my traveling bag, which would fit nowhere in the tiny room, rest- ing on the foot of my improvised bed. My face was being continually fanned by my overhanging dresses, and the curtains of the passage window — 74 Greeting to America and so I lay resigned to everything — but not quite, for the staterooms are directly over the wheels of the train, and when the cars are uncoupled at night, or give a sudden lurch, you feel as though torn asunder. I had just enough strength left to lift my head a little and to call out in a weak voice, " I want a life insurance! " " Now where is the wild, wild West? " was my constant inquiry as I traveled further on towards the Northwest, and looked out upon the landscape. There was nothing outlandish about it, but it seemed like an old acquaintance. Everything was still clothed in winter dress — a flat, unremarkable-look- ing country, with bare fields, barren soil and unculti- vated forests. But when we came to the broad, majestic streams, the scene changed and became one of greater interest. We were told that we passed the finest scenery during the night in the mountainous regions — too bad ! — What a pity that I could not see all this land- scape green and in spring splendor as it showed itself around Washington, for instance. For hours at a time I looked out on the desolate country around, and a little German song came back to me and would not be dismissed — Train, Landscapes, Duluth y^ " Mir ist leide Das der Winter beide Wald und auch die Heide, Hat gemachet kahl. — Sein Bezwingen Laszt nicht Blumen springen Noch die Voglein singen Ihren viel siissen Schall." [" It grieves me that the winter has made forest and heath so bare — that its power has kept the flowers from blooming^and the birds from singing their sweet songs."] What astonished me, too, was the fact that it was not wintry weather; quite the contrary, the days were almost too warm for me — and yet the vegeta- tion was so scant and the season so backward. Some days later, when I reached Canada and the East, we seemed to be again in the midst of spring; soft greens everywhere, in forest and meadow, and such magnificent trees ! Oaks, tulip trees and then the beautiful American elms — a charming sight. I have always been a great lover of nature, and I could appreciate the exquisite cultivation of forest and valley, everywhere in evidence in Canada and the East. While traveling in the Northwest, we came often to burning forests, which gave me anxious moments at nightfall, and very sad thoughts during the day. How the flames wound themselves tortuously about the trunks of the trees until the branches blazed up- wards, and crept, snake-like, through the grass until 76 Greeting to America it sizzled and crackled and burned to the ground, leaving only dark, ugly stubble. When the forests on both sides were burning, the train would rush through with tremendous speed, and this frightened us almost as much as the flames. Then the face of the black porter became almost white with fear, and he told me that the Catholic negro cook was kneeling and praying and counting his beads, and we would have " no supper, madam, oh, nooo ! ! " On the way through the West, we passed many German settlements — the better cultivated land be- longed to Americans, the porter said, but these Ger- man settlements did not gladden the heart. Such very small houses, with a so very small adjoining stable, and such a very little cultivated patch for potatoes and cabbages — meager, sandy bits of field and then stretches of wild country with poor looking trees that could be used only for fences or firewood. On what do these people live — what occupation do they have in order to earn the money to sustain themselves ? Remarkable to note, I never saw any signs of hu- man life around these habitations, and yet I could see that they were inhabited. I thought of the lone- liness in which these people live, and wondered whether they could be happy, thus separated from the rest of the world — whether there were women here. Train, Landscapes, Duluth 'jj happy, contented ones — " with a hut and his heart," and thankful for these. Could I help thinking of our renowned German poet, Fritz Renter, and who says in his poem " Kein Husung " (No House) : The wanderer from across the ocean came back again to his home like a thief in the night, for the child he had left behind. Every- thing smiled a welcome to him in the beautiful attire of spring — the trees and yellow marigolds were in blossom, and the nightingale sang among the white flowers of the blackthorn bush, and he stood beside the pond where his wife had found solace and rest from her woe. " D'e Nachtigal dot Water singt De Erd de ganze Haven klingt Was lebt und weidt, dot bogt de Knei Un stimmet in de Melodei : Un heilig heilig is, de Stad Wo'n Menschenhart eins breten ded." [The nightingale and the water sing The earth and heaven are in tune. What lives and breathes joins our prayers, And is in harmony with the melody, Sacred and holy is the spot Where a broken heart found rest.] But although thus bidden to stay, he presses his child to his breast and cries, " Frei soil er sein — Free he shall be ! " But has he found the freedom he sought in those huts in the wild, far away from his 7 8 Greeting to America beautiful country? Oh, how much sorrow must the human heart endure, before men bid farewell to home, country and all, to find refuge in the wilder- ness of a strange land. But we should be grateful to the rich country that has taken under its protection so much misery and has tried to give it comfort and cheer. Michigan I reached in the apple-blossoming time. It was the end of May, and under the blooming trees myriads of wild flowers, my favorites, were in blos- som. I was carried away by the sight. They decked the fields on all sides of us as we traveled along, and carpeted the meadows. They wel- comed me in my room wherever I came, and one in particular which I had never before seen, delighted me — a white blossom called Trillium. The Ameri- cans shared my fondness for wild flowers, and these were then the fashion. A gentleman in Canada told me that he grew more than one hundred different kinds on his country place. Cultivated wild flowers — ah, then the day of ivild flowers is over. As a child it was our custom to plant and transplant daisies until they became am- aranths or thousand beauties as we call them. The experiment is a charming one, but it always gave me sorrow to see my dainty daisy, with its rose-tipped Train, Landscapes, Duluth 79 leaves and golden heart, transformed into the glori- ous and showy but not so graceful amaranth. All these flowers rejoiced the heart and sweetened the endless miles of travel. Not at all beautiful were the countless advertisements that appeared on the fences on both sides of the track, and on the rocks in most isolated places, certainly for the benefit of the traveling public only. Pills, soaps, bicycles — in end- less variety — were extolled, and just for fun I asked the porter whether certain of the pills advertised were good. " Oh, yes, I've tried them myself." Well, he had fallen into the trap. The Spring flowers followed me as far north as Lake Superior, to the most northerly point I visited, Duluth, but they had become smaller in that cold, rocky soil. " Does she really know where she is, and what mighty distances she has already left behind her? " asked my host of my companion as he looked at me in doubt. We were sitting near the open veranda door of a charming villa on the finest street of Du- luth. From the rocky hills with their scanty beeches, we looked down onto the beautiful lake and its sur- roundings. Even in summer, by reason of the eter- nal ice of the North, the water of the lake is so cold that the chill of death seizes everyone who falls into it, and no one in the greatest heat of summer, dares to bathe in the open. Lake bathing is possible for the 8o Greeting to America hardy only in sheltered coves where the sun beats down. In the large fire-place crackled the burning beech logs, but when I felt the brisk, fresh, invigorating air blown to me from the lake, it refreshed me after the almost summer heat I had experienced, and gave me a homelike feeling. Duluth, as some one explained to me, is the end of civilization in this direction, — further out there is nothing but stone and sand, and still further north, only perpetual ice, for the distance from Duluth to the North Pole is not so great as the number of miles we had covered coming from the Atlantic coast to Duluth, Duluth is a city of only thirty years' growth, but there are already rows of streets miles long, on the shores of the lake, and more than 50,000 inhabitants. It possesses fine public buildings, and an almost pala- tial school-house. One could not find a more beau- tiful one anywhere. To the European, this sudden growth of a city appears always like one of the tales of the Arabian Nights, and as if the Aladdin's lamp had been rubbed, the genii summoned and the city built by magic over night. But Duluth was built by the power of intelligence — energy and industry — and through the might of American progress. This was the genius that produced out of rocks and sandy hills, the city as it now stands. In the magnificent hall of the school previously Train, Landscapes, Duluth 8i alluded to, I gave a lecture before 2,000 persons. As I looked to the end of the hall, an immeasurable dis- tance it seemed to me, I was quite frightened — " Can you understand me back there?" I asked. Like a sound from another world came back, " Very little." I was in despair, for I wished so much to be heard. Then I asked the audience not to cough so much, per- haps they could then hear me better. But they laughed good naturedly and amiably, and the answer reaching me, " But we can see you at least " was a most winning one. There seemed in many places to be prevalent in- fluenza during my lectures, for coughing was so general, and I could sympathize and understand now the annoyance of the pastor in our village church, for every time he began a sermon or a very long prayer, the coughing began also. So seldom do visitors come to Duluth, that my coming seemed in the nature of a great event, and so much was spoken and written of me that the very children in the street sang " Baroness von Biilow " as one sings a popular melody. One day during a walk, I asked one of the little boys who the Baroness was, but he did not know and would not believe me when I said that I was that personage. My visit to the friendly city of Duluth was cer- tainly filled with interesting episodes, — poetical and refreshing in every sense. In the garden of my host, the children and I planted a rose bush as a souvenir 82 Greeting to America of my stay among them — this too, in the far north- ern cHmate is a rare guest. Gayety, however, was ever present, and I experienced the feehng that here the heart never could be sad, for the air was so pure, the sky so blue and the sun so far away smiHng and friendly. CHAPTER X THE INDIANS — THE NIAGARA FALLS — LEGEND We read in a newspaper account written by a lady- reporter, ** At Duluth the Baroness hoped to study the Indians at first hand, another race whose possi- bilities she feels could be wonderfully developed by Froebel's principles. Yet when she went to Duluth to find Indians she found only one scalp lock which she now treasures." The latter statement was true so far as the fact of the possession of the scalp lock. It was a rare speci- men and I hid it with a shudder among my clothes, intending to bring it to Europe for a friend. But the first part, alas, is an error, for I do not believe that the Indian has much mental vigor, and I fear that his doom is inevitable. The Indians have never as a race responded to the blessings of civilization, but have always seemed identified with the wilderness and the free life of na- ture. It is true that in the reservations, Indians work in garden and field, but their labor is irrecon- cilable with their roving tastes and suppresses their natural instincts. Civilization seems to dry the mar- 83 84 Greeting to America row in their bones, besides having made them ac- quainted with vices that are ruinous. They are born to hunt in the woods and fish in lonely streams, and they will never grow accustomed to other work. Like the gypsies, they breathe freely only beneath the open sky or under the light shelter of their wig- wams, and to take them from this condition of free- dom and from their intercourse with nature, into the compressed circle of civilization, would mean their extinction. There are of course individual cases of intelligence and capability among them. Much was told me while I was in Canada of the learning of an Indian, a halfbreed, however, but this type was no doubt an exception. The time does not appear far distant when these children of nature will be but a tradition — when like a legend will be told the story of the red man who with his sidelong gait, roamed in the wil- derness, which, like him, will have long since disap- peared — and as most interesting reminiscences or relics of these times will they look upon the picture of the old chief in the Capitol in Washington, and at the statue of the Indian in the Chicago park, who is seated on his horse and seems with his glance to be piercing the distance. The realism of the figure and the pose impressed me very much, for I can never think of these vanishing peoples without this feeling of sadness, which we always experience when some- thing very poetical is vanishing forever. But I think Indians — Niagara Falls — Legend 85 that lifelike statue in Chicago of this calm, dignified warrior, who quietly awaits the fate to which he has to submit will in later years appear as a most poetical figure to the then living Americans. It would naturally have been of great interest for me to have been able to study the Indians too, espec- ially the Indian children. But in vain I sought the opportunity. Finally I heard with pleasure and some excitement that in the neighborhood of Niag- ara there was an Indian village, but as usual no one could tell us just how far from our hotel it was. Fortunately, one Sunday we drove out to find it, and at last we reached the place and learned that everyone had gone to church. On our way there we met an Indian child, alas, sick and dying, and the sight made me melancholy, for I felt that it foretold 'the fate of its race. Then we found the long-looked- for Indians — and disappointment followed upon dis- appointment, for the chief, who was leading the choir, had short cropped hair and wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and about him were others of his degen- erate race; — dirty, miserable looking specimens, with every mental and bodily token of decline, and dressed in motley clothes that seemed to have been cast off by the white people. I left the church with one illusion less. Often in life the joy has been given me to wonder with delight at the beautiful pictures Nature offers 86 Greeting to America us, but the sight of the Niagara Falls overpowered me as nothing else had ever done. On the night of my arrival, I watched from my window the rapids of the river; it was a beautiful starry night and the moon shone full upon the wild stream. In the light of the early Spring morning we drove to the falls. The first green leaves of the lofty beech trees rustled above us and reminded me of the glorious woods of my native land; the verdure everywhere surrounding us on Goat Island, put us in touch with the scene, and my heart leaped with joyful anticipation — and as I came upon the water- fall I stood speechless but with folded hands. The charm and magnetism of the place are inde- scribable. One can stand quite close to the side of the falls; and I stood separated from the water by only a clump of grass and a tiny flower, which I stooped to pick for a friend, — at the same time dip- ping my hand in the water. When one stands thus, in direct contact with the fall, the majestic mass of water seems almost without motion, not like a rush- ing torrent, but like a gentle gliding down into the depths, and just this is the striking and the over- shadowing part, it seems as if the falls were con- gealed in their own grandeur. For the width of a quarter of a mile the water stretched itself, but at my side and down far below in the masses and rifts of snow white clouds of spray Indians — Niagara Falls — Legend 87 and foam, rested in shining beautiful bright colors, two rainbows spanning the river beneath and fading into the opposite shore. For how many thousands of years have the waters of the Great Lakes been poured over the Niagara Falls ! and so it will go on for thousands of years longer, unless that mightier power than even these elements of Nature, human genius, in its all conquering spirit wills it otherwise. That power subjects the greatest and most majestic in Nature, and makes mountain streams and oceans do its bidding. Few places are so full of romance and poetry as the water-hemned Goat Island. Rushing streamlets wind among the rocks, grown over with damp moss, or with overhanging knotted trunks and roots of trees, and form caves and secret grottoes. One involuntarily associates these beautiful spots with the poetical, picturesque figures of the Indians who trod with lingering steps this region which they believed hallowed by the presence of the " Great Spirit." I wonder if the legend of the Double Rainbow of the Niagara Falls is generally known in America. Its charm clung to me when I heard it on the very spot — Long before the white man had penetrated into this region where came only the deer to drink or at times the Indian in awe and reverence, seeking the holy ground where his gods dwelt, the red man had 88 Greeting to America seen among the depths of the fall the shining rain- bow in the silvery watercourse. Formed by the sun in the day and by the moon at night, it was believed by the Indians to be the bridge by which departed souls were carried to the " happy hunting grounds of heaven." It was the custom of the red men of this region to ofifer from time to time a sacrifice to their Great Spirit. They decorated a white canoe with flowers and fruits, and the most beautiful maiden of the tribe was chosen to take this offering to the God. She was steered over the precipice of water into the clouds of vapor below in the depths — proud to be the messenger for her people and to be allowed to consecrate her life to this ser- vice. Once it happened that the only daughter of a great chief was selected to take the offering. Her mother had long since died, and her father was a great war- rior whose severity relaxed only in the presence of his beloved daughter. When she was chosen he gave no outward sign of emotion; no tears filled his eyes, no traces of pain betrayed themselves in his features or showed the sufferings of his soul. The maiden adorned herself and the canoe, and with joy- ful smiles bade adieu to the tribe assembled on the shore. Then the rapids carried her towards the fall, with arms crossed on her maidenly bosom and dark, shining eyes lifted to the blue sky, she stood among the flowers of the canoe, the tribe following her Indians — Niagara Falls — Legend 89 eagerly with their eyes. Suddenly they saw another canoe dart from the shore, and in it the majestic figure of their chief, dressed as if for battle. For an instant the canoes floated side by side, and a look of unutterable love was exchanged between father and daughter. Then the canoes leaped the fall and through the snowy clouds of mist they were carried to the happy hunting ground, and into the presence of the Great Spirit. The Indians watching on the bank, hastened to the falls, and looking down into the waters saw a second rainbow appearing beside the first. They were awed by the sight, for they felt that Manitou had accepted their sacrifice and had built a second bridge for the father to cross from earth to heaven. This is the legend of the sacrifice of the Niagara Falls, and the phenomenon of the Second Rainbow. The tradition of the rainbow as a bridge to heaven we find everywhere among the ancient volks legends. In our German mythology it is the bridge over which the Valkyries carried the fallen heroes from the bat- tle fields to Valhall. Among the Greeks and Ro- mans it was recognized as the colored bridge of the charming Iris, down which this handmaiden of Juno hastened from Olympus to earth, to execute the com- mands of her queen. Not less poetical is the de- scription in the Mosaic Scriptures of the golden bridge or ladder, which Jacob sees in a dream, and which leads to Heaven. Again, the children of go Greeting to America Christendom speak of the golden stairs which the angels from Heaven descend as they come in the quiet of night to guard and watch over good chil- dren. Surely by these shining bridges, ladders and steps must be meant the moon rainbow. Another charming myth tells us that wherever the rainbow rests on the earth, a treasure lies buried, and only those who are able to reach Heaven on the shin- ing bridge of Love can raise the hidden treasure. I stood deep in meditation, looking down at the beautiful rainbows — and thinking of the poetical story, when behind me, above the roar of the waters, I heard a voice " Now-a-days, we have no such sacri- fices — they are no longer possible." My whole be- ing was roused — Ah, yes, surely — sacrifices greater than thought can grasp, sacrifices of every kind are being offered to-day and will be always offered so long as love lives on earth. Many for one, and for something, one for all, and one for the other — so long as hearts glow and souls can ascend to the eternal good and great — in Love " Liebe ist die golden Leiter drauf das Herz zum Himmel steigt " (Love is the golden ladder by which the heart mounts to Heaven). CHAPTER XI 4 AMERICAN KINDERGARTENS Little, perhaps, did the first founders of the American Kindergartens, Miss EHzabeth Peabody, Prof. Kraus and Mrs. Kraus Boelte, Dr. Barnard, Miss Marwedel and many other worthy people, dream of the immense possibiHties of the Froebel system or the great progress it would make in so short a time. When to-day a city of 700,000 inhab- itants, like St. Louis, can boast of one hundred and twenty-seven Kindergartens, and these all free and connected with the public schools, and when Boston can show six Kindergarten training schools, and hardly a city in the Union is without one Kinder- garten at least, must we not wonder at what has been accomplished ? And who for the most part has achieved this glori- ous work? The women of America, and I say again, " Hats off to the American women ! " and all praise and honor for the government, school di- rectors and the teachers and for every one who has shared the work and stood by these noble women. I knew that I would find numerous Kindergartens, and deplored beforehand that I could not visit them 91 92 Greeting to America all. I knew also that the interest for and recogni- tion of the Froebel cause were great, but that the sympathy was so universal and shared by those of every class, I really had not expected, and it was most touching and inspiring, I cannot, in this short sketch, give more than a summary of my impressions of the American Kin- dergartens, but this much must I be allowed to say, '* They delighted me, and I love them." And how otherwise could one feel, on seeing these happy little creatures in cJiarming Kindergarten rooms full of light and air, and tastefully adorned with pictures, plants and song birds. The great advantage of the locality and the quar- ters, for the Kindergartens is due to their connection with the public schools. " Oh, yes, you have these beautiful quarters," I said, jokingly, " but in the future, when I come again, I hope to see all the Kin- dergartens in possession of real children's gardens." Here the children in aprons and shade hats can sow, plant, and harvest to their heart's content. They are to have beds of vegetables, and raise radishes, tur- nips, etc., and to carry to their mothers parsley which they themselves have grown. American children, as do all children, love gaily colored, bright flowers, and they are often given them in great abundance, as I noticed when I hap- pened in on " color day." But thousand fold more beautiful the child finds the simplest flower which it American Kindergartens 93 has planted and cared for, and watched with longing expectation. Such a blossom appears in a very dif- ferent light, and he regards his " own flower " most tenderly. He would much rather see it live and bloom, than have the masses of variegated flowers which he crowds into bouquets without any under- standing, or sees with their tender stems withering in his hot little hands. " The flowers are sad," said a little girl to me once, as she saw them dying in her hands, and full of distress, she flung them from her. What the children themselves plant and tend are like living beings to them, who need loving care and consideration — and this same care and love exert a powerful influence upon the soul of the child, upon the later man — and upon the education of the peo- ple. It has a broader and better influence than the tenderest circle ever formed, where the children sit hand in hand, high and low embracing with broth- erly love. As Schiller says, " Be embraced, ye mil- Hons — one kiss for the whole world " — and I say also, let the kiss be given and the circles formed, but they must have their time and place. As I have said it before, I wish now to repeat that the children will be much happier and gayer if they are busy in joyous play or learning through doing — mind and body be- ing exercised at the same time, and that they would prefer the changing games intended for the strength- ening of the limbs to the skipping which I saw done so often during my visit to America. I like to see 94 Greeting to America it too, for when skipping is properly done it is a charming sight, but many times it is indulged in without rhyme or reason. When the law of Froebel's " Connection of Oppo- sites " is universally applied, and heart and soul are fully in touch with the work done by the children, then we see their real joy and pleasure in producing and creating what will give pleasure to others. Froebel tells us in the Mutter und Koselieder (Mother and Cosset Songs) of the tiny child who shapes a flower basket out of his hands to show to his father, and with what delight he looks upon the work of his little hands — and his flowers put in the basket. And what pleasure the children always have and give when they carry home to the family, flowers and vegetables, which they have planted and raised! Then the faces will brighten and beam in the same way that I saw them in a free Kindergarten in Boston. The children had invented designs for me with scalene triangles, and it is not easy to lay circles with these — but when their invention was done, they looked up at me with cheeks reddened by the excitement and joy of creating, to see whether I too shared their pleasure. It was not with a spirit of vanity, but with just pride that they waited mod- estly until I saw their achievement, and I was charmed with their manner and their work. Though the true Kindergarten method as Froe- bel's genius gave it, is in active practice in many American Kindergartens 95 American Kindergartens there are still to be found in some many useless occupations which could be kept for the home, and not take any of the too short time allowed for the Kindergarten — often chil- dren have only one or two years at the most for this instruction, because they enter the Kindergarten so late. When they have learned properly how to exer- cise their productive and creative faculties, perhaps they will have outgrown soap-bubbles and so-called water color paintings. I say useless occupations because as they are pursued generally the children learn as little about painting as they do of the beauty of the colors in themselves — the soap bubbles too, will thus become old-fashioned, as they are indeed (being thousands of years old) . Then perhaps they will turn back in their flighty march of progress to what has only an age of fifty years — and yet seems very new to some people. Froebel's method is only half a century old, but as I have said many times, never be pedantic in the Kindergarten — so if the children wish to blow soap bubbles, why not — once in a while — " einmal is keinmal," as we say in Ger- man, and I will even confide to you that the prettiest bubbles are made with green soap. The Kindergart- ner can in a few words or by a little story bring out the idea that the pleasure of these " fleeting mo- ments " of bubble blowing is so short, and that it is most disagreeable if one, because he blew not skill- fully, gets the taste of the soap in his mouth. 96 Greeting to America If I had a Kindergarten, I would for once and all, let the children daub with paint as freely as they wished, as they splash, for example, in water, or do other things, for this exercise has an educational value also, in showing them that they can produce nothing " beautiful " or lasting in this way — only ugly spots or flecks on aprons and fingers. And then how gladly they will return to their beloved Kinder- garten gifts and occupations, which are always adapted to their growing strength and powers, and show them beautiful, satisfying results. Shall the children learn about colors? Surely, but they must be given clear, distinct colors and easily distinguished shades, for children's eyes are unpracticed and can tell only these. In the first gift, of the ball, the child has learned the primary and sec- ondary colors, and has an impression of color har- mony. Now if it is to have a further useful experi- ence with colors, let him learn to mix a clear yellow and clear blue, to produce a bright green — he should be taught that only by the mixture of the primary colors in exact proportions will the desired shade be produced — and he must be allowed to work with pro- nounced shades only at first. ( See Chapter on Con- nection of Opposites in Biography of Baroness von Marenholtz Biilow.) Working with shades is not such an easy matter, and much may be left to be explained in the school garden, the continuation of the Kindergarten. In American Kindergartens 97 the Kindergarten, pastel pencils will be found much more practical than water colors; but they must be the best of their kind, for only with pure colors can we teach the child. It is in, my opinion, a useless waste of time to give children flowers to paint where the color and shading of the petals would be difficult to recognize, and could not easily be produced by them, and I doubt whether the Kindergartner herself often could do what she expects of the children. Surely neither she nor they will be satisfied when they see the work incor- rectly or badly done. Froebel desired that the children should always have a useful reproductive or creative work, and be given instruction by and through their own efforts. For the simple pastimes which take up only time, and provide only a passing, momentary pleasure or amusement, we do not need Froebel, the prophet of a nezu education. My space is too limited, unfortunately, to state here many of the questions asked me in regard to Kindergartens, but about the green gardens for which I make so strong a plea, I must add a few sug- gestions. Surely in the smaller cities of the United States, garden land must be found in fullness and plenty, but of course in cities like New York and Chicago, it will be difficult to find ground for that purpose. Most schools, however, have yards or open spaces in 98 Greeting to America front or around them, and usually by the gates, that could be appropriated for gardens, and what is to prevent using the roofs of the school houses, if noth- ing else is available? as I used to ask jokingly. I am sure the Americans have too much genius and energy not to be able to accomplish what they de- sire, despite all obstacles. I was also asked if I con- sidered it a good plan to allow single children to be chosen out of the ring to lead in singing, reciting, etc. Certainly, for the play must be a reproduction of life, and as in the midst of the community repre- sented by the circle of the Kindergarten, each child as an individual must take his part and do his share, as in life, whether well or poorly done. The tact and forethought of the Kindergartner would be exer- cised, so that each child will have a chance to be chosen from the ring. Then there can be no vanity displayed, and each child should be spurred to do his best, as others have tried before him. Right or proper ambition is a good thing, for out of such am- bition springs everything that is great and good in the world. It is the duty of the Kindergartner, and it is in her power too, to direct this ambition in the noble and blessing bringing path. That her knowl- edge and tact will teach her this, will be conceded to me by everyone who has much to do with " the new education." When one sees how ambitious and in- terested she is in herself for everything that will ad- vance her work, and how eagerly she studies further. American Kindergartens 99 so that her pupils may be benefited, and what efforts she makes for them, and what endeavors and aspira- tions are hers as she goes on with the Froebel method, then it is easy to comprehend how such a Kindergartner truly " lives for her children." For she will enter into their kingdom as one of them, and learn from them the needs of individual children. She will understand and be able to enter into their lives and thoughts, then she will be the true educator, then she will understand Froebel and his idea, and attain the highest honor of her sex — and be the edu- cator of mankind. L.^ w'n CHAPTER XII THE POWER OF BEAUTY IN EDUCATION Only through Beauty's morning gate Did'st thou the land of knowledge find To merit a more glorious fate, In Graces trains itself the mind. What thrilled thee through with trembling blest, When erst the muses swept the chord, That power created in thy breast, Which to the mighty Spirit soar'd. Says F. von " Schiller." Translated by Edgar Alfred Bowring. The Baroness von 'Marenholtz Biilow says in her " Collected Works " — " Beauty educates — beauty is the harmony of form, the perfection of an expression of an idea. Through form the idea manifests itself, and fructifies the spirit which receives and then un- fetters and releases it. So beauty becomes deliver- ance, and a medium of freedom." Froebel uses every conceivable means to lead the child from the first morning of his life into this realm of beauty; he gives him an intuition and conception of form, color and proportion, and also shows him how to use latent powers ; to recognize harmony, the beginning of art and the origin of all beauty. lOO The Power of Beauty in Education i o i Through beauty of form the soul of man is led to the beauty of the idea to spiritual beauty from outward impressions. This will be begun in the Kindergarten. With these aids and the assistance given by the teachings of the Mother and Kosset Songs in the hands of mothers as well, it will be easy to surround the bud- ding sons of humanity with beauty, and to allow the ennobling influence of the beautiful to do its part in education. The Baroness says further, " Proportion, symme- try, harmony, shall awaken music in the child's soul. It is said that the nations in their infancy sang in- stead of speaking — this is a proof that rhythm and tune are among the first needs of the child. The motions of the body in their grace, express the music of the soul." Therefore it is significant that woman, as the educator of mankind, should embody and rep- resent in her inner consciousness and outward bear- ing and poise, noble symmetry and charming har- mony — in one word — grace — for it is upon her bosom that the child wakes to life. As Froebel teaches us, it is the first impressions that are the de- cisive ones for life. The smile of the mother, her loving looks and mild glances, the sweet, tender tones of her voice, and even the light rustle of her robes and her soft touch, remain indelibly impressed upon the child's heart. Even the grayhaired man speaks with eyes lighted I02 Greeting to America by tender recollections of the grace of his mother, and recalls the soft, beautiful folds of her dress, and her clustering, shining curls, and the dainty touch of her loving hands. As the Baroness says, " The tones which first awaken us from slumber are like unceas- ing music, which never dies away, so must the mother encompass her child with only harmonious sounds, singing the cradle songs that will awaken their souls." Observation teaches us how sensitive little children are to unpleasant sounds. They will stop their cry- ing for a moment on hearing the loud noise made by clappers or rattles, but when the disagreeable sound is over, then will the little faces be again wrinkled in grimaces of displeasure, or the angry, plaintive tears break forth. Their movements will indicate the dis- comfort and dismay they feel at having their sense of harmony so rudely disturbed. Everything bright appeals to the heart of the child with joy, and he grasps and reaches for the gay with delight — so Froebel gives him for his first impres- sions of color, clear, beautiful expressions of them. Soon the time comes when the child is to be led fur- ther in the world of art, and then Froebel's method comes into play — for he provides him with all the illustrations of the forms of the crystalized world in all their symmetrical beauty. There is not one of the Froebel occupations that does not provide the child with some element of the beautiful, and influ- The Power of Beauty in Education 103 ence his sense of beauty and his taste, and thus he becomes, in his childlike way, very early in life, a little working artist. Let us think for a moment of the drawing, build- ing and modeling done in the Kindergarten — and how all the beauty of form, color, symmetry and har- mony work upon the soul of the child with incom- parable charm, and give him unfading impressions. If a divinely graced and favored artist slumbers in a child, he is thus awakened by the pure kiss of early beautiful impressions, to the beauty of life. When he plays his Kindergarten games, he learns quickly how all unmeasured, wild movements, and too loud singing, disturb the harmony and beauty of the whole. One must preserve the naturalness of childhood withal, the expression of the individual must not be suppressed, only modified. Constraint and lack of grace must not take the place of the charming child- like naturalness. The child soon learns what strength comes to him by the exercise of all the members of his body, and how he acquires a greater ease and facility of movement, and an unconscious grace and beauty — the " aisance," as the French call it, comes to the individual through his being able to move in a natural, unconstrained manner, and the Kindergar- ten child properly reared, will never be in the uncom- fortable position of not knowing what to do with his elbows and hands. For freedom is beauty. I04 Greeting to America Anxiously we guard the child's senses and soul against impressions of all ugliness and harshness — and such pictures as we present to him must be of the beautiful and best in their way, in composition, color and expression, and in a form to be compre- hended by children. How beautiful it is to be able to lead the children into the province of Nature's glories, and to show them its highest manifestations — and not only to teach them how to see and feel the beauty of sun- rise and sunset, rainbows, fog, thunder, snow and storm, moonlight and the starry heaven, forests, meadows and fields, birds' songs, trees and flowers, but to admire all these with thankfulness, and to wor- ship devoutly the Creator of all these wonders. For Nature has more of these than our dim eyes can dis- cover, and they speak in language wonderful and sympathetic to the child's mind. How often we see people who look at trees, and even admire them, when their attention is directed, but how the sun or moonlight's caressing rays rest tremblingly first on this branch and then on the other, and between and over the leaves, dancing back again into the deep shadows, all the reflections of colors playing here and there from light to dark — this they do not see. Nor do they hear as they lie in the shade of the trees, the fairy tales woven in the whisperings of the leaves, nor how all life in Nature, from the greatest to the smallest, in its way and The Power of Beauty in Education 105 through its being speaks, sings and accords with the universal harmony. As your own beloved poet says : " To him who in the love of nature Holds communion with her varied forms, She speaks a various language." Poor indeed is the man who does not perceive, or cannot realize what these revelations are, but when we open the children's eyes and ears early to all the beauties and wonders about them, they will be able to create untold delight for themselves, their ideals will not be lightly destroyed and they will not grow up to believe that this world is only a sorrowful " vale of tears." They will have learned zvhat true enjoyment is — joy brings happiness and happiness makes goodness. Now the poetry of song and story, fairy tales, fables, legends and myths, will open a new world for them — ringing, singing poetry that penetrates to their hearts — and only those of us who keep ourselves in touch with the children's pure souls can know what these delights mean to them — and what best interests and charms their imagination, without undue excitement, those also will find here — harmony. Froebel wished for the development and education of the child, that his dramatic instinct or talent be recognized and properly directed, and with justice, for it represents the ideal life for us. It envelops io6 Greeting to America in rosy hues of the beautiful what the poet calls " Life's plain, every-day figures." This dramatic instinct in the child can be exercised in little plays, living pictures and above all in the Kindergarten games. There are so many holidays and festivals, Christmas, birthdays, Spring and Sum- mer seasons to celebrate. Out in the open, under the green trees and among the soft grasses and mosses surrounded by sunshine and delights of every kind, the children can gather the flowers which they are to wind into wreaths for others as well as them- selves. It is difficult to imagine a more beautiful sight than a group of such happy children, dressed in white and crowned with wreaths, skipping and dancing on the green meadow, and nothing can replace for the children, the memory of such a day. We must not under any circumstances undervalue the influence of the white holiday clothes, and it is a mistake to suppose that this adornment excites the children's vanity. Vanity comes only through the careless, indiscriminate words of older persons. The child is only conscious of the beauty of its dress, which is unknowingly the reflex of its own spotless soul. This idea of purity has been expressed by the Baroness von Marenholtz Biilow in the following exquisite aphorism beginning with Mignon's plead- ing, " Oh let me seem until I am; — still robed in my The Power of Beauty in Education 107 white dress " — and so would the Hps of children pray if they were capable of expressing their thoughts to those who would rob them of their white dress of purity by teaching them of their sinfulness. For children think themselves beautiful in every dress, and this faith in their purity and beauty gives them inward strength to realize the ideal they strive for. But once the wings of the young soul are clipped, or the white dress of the ideal is torn away, then will faith in his own powers for aspiring and reaching upward be crippled, and the poor naked creature be forced to wander sadly and sorrowfully through the dust and mire of earth, instead of being enabled to rise by the properly directed sense of early awakened beauty. No, never will mankind attain its glorification and draw Heaven down to earth, so long as one tears away the delicate veil that envelops the child's un- conscious soul, and replaces it with the hair cloth robe in which penance must be done for sins never com- mitted. Like makes like — is an eternal law, and Godlike strength is awakened only by faith in it, and by giving it every opportunity to manifest itself — even if at first only in the play of imagination or the dress of imitation. The devil appears when he is painted on the wall, and here also the opposite picture is awakened by the representation. Childhood's dreams of heroic deeds and beauty of soul of every kind, will be fulfilled io8 Greeting to America when its strength is rightly exercised for the good, on the other hand the ghosts and phantoms conjured up for children may become realities. Oh leave them the brief happiness of their beautifully dreamed real- ities, until the latter themselves intrude upon their Eden. The illusions of youth, beauty and splendor, vv^ill ever be the shields against evil, even if disap- pointments come bitter and more bitter. Much better to have had these illusions that are the images of the only true reality of beauty, even if life later destroys them and offers in their place but phantoms and caricatures. How will Ideality and Reality reconcile them- selves in the life of man, its highest God-given task, if childhood and youth do not live this harmony in semblance at least. " Every truth was once a sem- blance, and every semblance may become reality when its appearance is of eternal beauty." CHAPTER XIII COMFORT If some one should ask me what I found the most beautiful thing in America, I should answer " The Niagara Falls " — the most remarkable? the grave of President Grant. I mean the resting place of his remains before they were finally entombed in the magnificent mausoleum I admired in its unfinished state. What I found the least beautiful? This I will never tell — one must read something between the lines. What I liked the best? Of a certainty, the eyes of the American women — so sympathetic and intelligent — and please don't think me material when I say — crackers. These crackers which after my first taste of them, became my main stay and comfort during the long fasting hours of distant journeys, before I learned how delightfully equipped and comfortably regulated were the dining cars of the trains, and that through the courtesy of the cooks and porters, and in hotels and private homes, I could have day or night my accustomed gruel. In response to " The Baroness wants her gruel and crackers " — would come my bowl daintily tied 109 no Greeting to America with the German colors. The hospitaHty of the Americans one must have experienced as I did, in order to understand my appreciation and dehght. Their kind thoughtfulness and careful planning for every need of their guest made me feel, surrounded as I was by everything strange and new, quite at home among them. Somebody had told me that I would have no stairs to climb in America, and I was overjoyed to hear it — alas, I found this was not quite true. I never in all my life had to mount so many steps as I did in my eight weeks' sojourn in America. I climbed in private houses those small, steep steps covered with thick, dark carpet of undistinguishable design and which rendered the steps almost noiseless. Only once was I pleased with the staircases — and this was during a reception in Boston when for lack of space, the steps were lined and filled with pretty young girls. Kindergarten pupils who sang most charm- ingly, and with their smiling, happy faces helped to make a very pretty picture. When one thinks of the prevailing haste and move- ment in the life of the American women, and all the steps that have to be climbed, one can well under- stand why at last they sink exhausted in the arms of their rocking chairs. Here they find rest and com- fort after the fatigue of the day — lulling body and mind as children were rocked in the good old cradle days, before modern hygenic teaching robbed them Comfort III of this delight. The staring look and peculiar ex- pression which cradle-rocked children assume, 1 found again in the rocking-chair occupants, and, though I had been told that this expression in chil- dren came from the irritation of the brain, there seemed to be no bad effects evident here, for the ladies always rose from their chairs refreshed and invigorated and looking as fresh as ever. But I could never get accustomed to those rocking-chairs ! When I recovered from my fright on seeing the black cat in the waiting room in New York, and looking around saw twenty-five or thirty rocking- chairs, each with an occupant with the same blank, staring expression, I gave one glance and then hur- ried from the spot, and ever afterwards in my trav- els avoided rocking-chairs. But I did revel in the elevators of the hotels — nothing was so delightful as to fly up and down in them, from the earth to one's Olympus of a rented hotel room. In Boston, where we had a constant stream of visitors, and the darkies appeared with the cards announcing them, there was an incessant ascent and descent. When the darkey appeared, Miss Hofer would fly down and then up again to fetch me, and then we both flew down together, and after a little while floated upward. But at that instant the call boy would again appear with cards, coming up from the lower regions, and we would have to follow him and fly down again. How quick these black messengers can be, and 112 Greeting to America how readily one gets accustomed to the expressions in vogue and the words used in familiar intercourse — the so-called Americanisms — " That's it," " I guess so," "All right," "Oh, is it that?" or "Is that so ? " When I landed in America I used all the translated expressions of friendly greeting, and the phrases that would make known my wishes and desires in most polite fashion. " I should like to have," or " Please give me " seemed to please and be understood, yet rarely did I get what I wished, but when I learned to say " I want/' I was served as if by magic, and when I said to a darkey " Right away," or " hurry up," his eyes would shine and his face beam with a delighted grin that showed all his white teeth, and with one spring and a bound he would dart off in a quick step, as if he realized that my words would admit of no tarrying. With the feeling of being so near the clouds in the eighth, ninth or twelfth story of an hotel, and with so many floors below, one no longer wondered at the low ceilings, so much lower than those in the high- priced European hotels. What tower-like buildings these American hotels would become, if their four- teen or twenty-one stories were built with ceilings like our own three and four story ones. These low ceilings I found to be the fashion, even in private dwellings and palatial residences, and observed high, lofty ones only in large halls and in some of the Comfort 113 salons of the princely hotels. How unbearably hot these low ceiling rooms can become when the lights are lit, or during warm weather. Of their tempera- ture (which I measured by my own Reaumur), we with our modest fourteen or fifteen degrees R. could have no idea unless we experienced it. But the Americans seem to be unaware of the heat, for I sel- dom found a thermometer about, and yet I do not think they are insensible to it entirely, else why all the ice cream that is on every menu for desert, and the great demand for ice water. This cooling of the inner-body after so much dry, unhealthy heat in the rooms, seems to be a physical necessity. Good water and milk, fine bread and butter I found everywhere in America, and chickens too, in roasted form, greeted me everywhere. In the Ger- man lady there is always somewhat of the good " haus frau " (house wife), who is proud to be able to play the cook herself and be superior to her when it comes to more accurate and finer preparations. But we learn cooking in all its branches, just as the superintendent or director of a factory has a working knowledge of every craft that he must pass judgment upon. As I liked to speak of my proficiency as a cook, I was often invited, while in America, to prepare a roasted chicken according to a North Ger- man recipe which I pride myself on, and which ac- complishment I assure you entitles me " uber zu sein," as we say in German (das mussin — to be 114 Greeting to America above) many cooks. Will my kind, indulgent friends over the ocean let me now in these pages cook for them, and will they do me the favor of giv- ing my recipe a trial and telling me how they suc- ceeded? It is really a very good recipe for roast chicken. Naturally when I get ready to roast a chicken, I consider every point accurately as I do with every- thing I expect to have well done — and first comes what I will use in the roasting. I need, of course, first the chicken, some smoked bacon, one-half pound butter, a little salt, an evenly heated, glowing oven, with an iron movable stand which every good oven has, to prevent direct contact with the floor of the oven, a long spoon, a little pot with cold water, a larding needle, an iron pan, and a couple of cloths for opening the oven door and handling the hot pan. Now we are ready to begin. The chicken which has been well hung by its throat so that the gall will not run, is now nicely washed after being cleaned, and then larded evenly over the breast with bacon. After salting a little, I place the chicken with two extra pieces of bacon over the larded breast in the pan, which has been somewhat heated. Then I look after my oven. It must be glowing. For a moment I let it cool ofif, in the meantime melting a fourth of the butter and pouring it over the breast of the chicken. I now shove the pan in the oven and shut the door. A minute or so after I begin the Comfort lie * •' basting with part of the butter and three or four tablespoons of cold water, basting at intervals of a minute. After the chicken has been roasting ten minutes on the floor of the oven, I put it on the stand before alluded to, and continue to baste as before. After fifteen or twenty minutes of roasting, the chicken should be done, and I then try it with a little pick needle near the leg. If the juice is red then the chicken must roast a little longer, but if it is clear and white, then the chicken is done. I put the re- maining butter in the pan to keep the gravy from getting too dark. I take the chicken and the gravy also from the pan. The chicken should be light brown on its breast, and the bacon not black but delicately browned. The meat of the chicken must be white, and around the joints slightly pinkish. Such a chicken melts on the tongue like butter, and is am- brosia for the gods — and I would like to see the man who, when he eats this delicious morsel, would not be wreathed in smiles as he praises the cook ! A little watercress as garnish, and cucumber salad with it, and what more will you want. But a word con- cerning cucumber salad. I stand for freedom always, and allow everyone the liberty of his own opinion, and leave everyone to his taste, but I would like to suggest that cucumbers should be given to us prepared, and incidentally I might add, properly pre- pared. I wonder if you would like to try my way. Take a firm, fresh, slender cucumber, peel it thor- Ii6 Greeting to America oughly from stem to end — try it to see if the cucum- ber is bitter, if so, our labor is lost and we must take another. Now take up with a napkin the cucumber in the left hand, and deftly cut it with a fine, sharp- bladed knife into such thin slices that the moon can shine through, as we are used to saying. Pour over the slices two tablespoonfuls of the best oil, and at the last moment mix in one full tablespoon of vine- gar and a saltspoon of salt, and a dash of pepper, mixing with a wooden spoon and fork. Surely this mode of preparation will be found much more palata- ble and healthy than the way I have often seen them served, cut in thick slices and the preparation with oil and vinegar an after consideration. When eaten as I have suggested in the above recipe, I am confident that the fortunate gourmet will find cucumber salad not only to his taste, but agreeable to his digestion as well. The stars seemed to foretell that everywhere we came, green asparagus served with milk sauce would also be forthcoming, for we met it during our entire journey through the United States and Canada, and I was accustomed to look for it at every meal as one greets an old friend whose presence seems necessary. Delightfully comfortable were the porcelain bath- rooms found adjoining our bed-rooms, and the American gave me the impression of great cleanli- ness, looking as his English brother does, as though he had just emerged from his tub. His daily bath Comfort 117 seems as much of a necessity as the iced water at every meal, and the sour strawberries which he eats before breakfast. The American is a great traveler, and sees and buys much, and it must often be difficult to place all his treasures of various kinds in his home. A pri- vate museum built adjoining his house, as the Japan- ese have it, where all the valuables could be exhibited, might solve the problem. I wish that traveling Americans would have the opportunity more often of seeing the homes and castles of our landed estates in Europe, and would note the solid comfort and har- monious settings that prevail throughout, and are evident everywhere and appropriate always, from the livery of the servants to the comfortable, beautiful carriages. Of course I saw in the large cities of America, many exquisite homes and fine horses too, but not nearly so many as we have in Europe — surely we must have something conceded to us. I had ad- mired and wondered at the good, old yellow stage coach which Buffalo Bill exhibited in Europe, and America, but I was equally interested in the wagons or carriages in which I was driven over the country, especially in the South and West, for they vv^ere with- out being old or yellow, quite reminiscent of that stage coach. I had always my fears and apprehen- sions when we climbed over the high wheels, first steadying ourselves on the large stone step on the 1 1 8 Greeting to America sidewalk from which we had always to mount, and I never alighted from the fine two-horse vehicles which carried us from place to place in the cities without getting bruised in some way or damaging the feath- ers of my hat. As I rattled over country roads, stony, dry creek beds, and the unpaved streets of the suburbs, in the so-called pleasure carts, I no longer wondered why they were so built. An old childish memory of the country roads in my dear old home, Mecklen- burg, rose before me, and I was again being driven in our heavy carriage over the roads which were famous throughout Europe for being as bad as it was possible to have them. There every landed pro- prietor had to care for the part of the road or street adjoining his property, and each owner worked out to his own satisfaction all his ideas as to street im- provement, and the result was often anything but a success. He was obliged also to keep the roads in repair, but many times in winter they would be ab- solutely dangerous, there being so much travel from one estate to the other. It was necessary to have very heavy hunting carriages, and coaches, to which four large horses were harnessed, on two of which two jockeys were mounted. I remember how as a child I delighted to look out of the little window above my carriage seat, and watch the bumping up and down of the jockeys, and then the water would splash out of a deep hole and the heavy wagon would Comfort 1 1 9 roll to the side, and the worthy old ladies cry out, " Oh, heavens, we'll surely be upset " — but the four horses, and the two riders and the coachman held the carriage firm until we happily arrived at our destina- tion. Thick cushions and good springs protected us somewhat from the bumps, and when the moonlight failed, two outriders carrying torches accompanied us — to give us more light than could the two silver carriage lanterns with their wax candles. How these American carts and landaus stand the cut-up roads of early Spring when the snow is melting, I can't im- agine, for the water must dash and splash to the seats as the sides are not protected by doors. When one hears of the " wild, wild West," which I expected to see and did not find, one associates with it the revolver and bowie knife, and I awaited with interest and horror the moment when either of these instruments would be placed on the dining table by its owner. But neither revolver nor bowie knife was ever forthcoming, and with our harmless table knives of plated silver we found it difficult to even cut our meat, and certainly they could not be used for deadly purposes. The American idea of comfort is very different from the European, but I certainly found over there much that was agreeable, instructive and interesting to observe. And now I come to the last of the questions the interviewer put to me, " And what do we Ameri- I20 Greeting to America cans not have? " Oh, well — then, I would answer, " In America I saw no gray or black bread, no sausages, no raw ham, no feather beds (whether they have geese or not I do not know, for I never saw one), no good, white, dear porcelain stoves, no night candles, and no nightingales. But they can do with- out these, for they have so many other good things. CHAPTER XIV SCHOOLS^ SCHOOL AND YOUTH GARDENS, THE CON- TINUATION OF THE KINDERGARTEN Among the many prominent features of American institutions, their fine schools take one of the fore- most ranks. I learned to admire them sincerely. The exterior and interior arrangements are complete, and so many aids and material means for the prac- tical illustration of the theories taught, I have never elsewhere seen. The new school buildings in the cities are almost palatial, the one I particularly noticed is in Detroit. I got the impression that in every way, in room and materials, and above all in the intelligence of school boards and the body of teachers, America is admirably fitted to carry out the true Froebel method in its entirety, from foundation to its highest point. This colossal achievement, worthy of the greatest admiration, bids fair to be accomplished. May the " Stars and Stripes " ever float gaily over all that is good and beautiful — and also over the " New Educa- tion!" With the greatest willingness, and really heart- winning courtesy, I was shown through the Ameri- 121 122 Greeting to America can schools. The presidents of colleges, superin- tendents, directors and the school corps showed me so much kindness that I can think of them only with the most sincere gratitude. About school gardens and their continuation into youth gardens, the Baroness von Marenholtz Biilow in her Collected Works says, " What is begun in the Kindergarten must be further continued in the school garden, according to Froebel's idea. Each is a complement of the other, having a common pur- pose, and one dovetails into the other. The Kinder- garten is the little world for earliest childhood, in which the bud of mankind can freely and naturally unfold itself. From the work begun here by the productive and creative faculties, the pupil in the school garden advances by degrees to more artistic productions. The different plastic arts, music vocal and instrumental, poetry, recitation, declamation, dramatic representations of the children's own pro- ductions, dancing, sports of every kind, gymnastics, swimming, boating, military tactics, yes, even hunt- ing within bounds, field excursions, gardening, agri- culture, workrooms for different trades and occupa- tions — all of these could be not only alternated but combined in an organic connection with the school proper" (see the Biography of the Baroness), so that the heart and mind's strength may be developed ; the good and beautiful, and the activity through early creation and production of the useful and practical Schools 123 be stimulated. For the play-ground, as Froebel or- ganized it, a part of the room required for these exer- cises during recreation hours, has already been pro- vided. The large assembly halls and class rooms will suffice for the handicrafts and artistic work. For gymnastics, swimming, etc., the places are near at hand, and now is needed a fitting garden space for the other mentioned practical occupations. We have had all of these variously dispersed, and more or less at hand, but it is necessary to put them on an organized basis in the school, and guard against one sided development of the intellect at the expense of the bodily health. For this will render impossible the harmonious unfolding of the being in all directions. By the consequent shortening of the prescribed study hours, there will be no loss in the general mental development, on the contrary it will be advanced, inasmuch as the development through productive and creative activity which claims both mind and body at the same time, will gain in com- pass, thoroughness and completeness. The Kinder- garten has in this way prepared for the school gar- den. The further development of the Froebel method does not mean its alteration or improvement, for in itself, as Froebel gave it, it is complete and perfect, and provides for the continuation of the system for children of riper years. It was of the greatest value to have Froebel's ideas concerning the further em- 124 Greeting to America ployment of his method developed and placed before us by the Baroness von Marenholtz Billow in her celebrated book " Labor and the New Education." (See Biography.) Here I can give only a brief resume of what I said in Boston and Toronto concerning the school gardens. Since the worthy endeavors of Prof. Erasmus Schwab of Vienna, twenty years ago, were successful in establishing many of these school gardens connected with the school proper, more or less extensive ground and plots of land notably near Vienna, Briinn and numerous places in Germany are being cleared and transformed into fields and gardens by the children. This occupation is of immense advantage in the development of the body and character of the child and youth — and the pedagogical value of these institutions as factors for popular education cannot be gainsaid. The child learns not only fulfilment of duty, but has great en- joyment too, in working thus for the general good. He learns to tend and take care of things, and be- comes acquainted with the use, value and beauty of indigenous plants. Let then our youth establish a home in the fields of Nature, by their own strength. Let them have a share in the things produced, the result of their own industry, let them take pleasure in the fruits or flow- ers, or let them have the still more ideal enjoyment of sitting under the shade of the trees they have Schools 1 2 c planted, and scenting the rose tended by themselves. Surely we shall be requited by seeing a more ideal character in the grown-up man. The being who in this manner has also his share of land and soil, has no longer the feeling of being shut out of possession, and he who has contributed to the beautifying and utilizing of the soil feels so much affection for his work that it appears to him a property he must guard, defend and preserve; it would be his last thought to roughly disturb or destroy it, for he knows the work it entailed to bring it to perfection. And the joy he finds in what he has created is natu- ral — for it means " my garden, my wood, my field," — and when he wanders at holiday times to the woods, with what pride he points to "' my tree." The youth garden (Yugend Garten) in this cul- tivation of the soil naturally attaches itself to the school garden (schul garten), the larger children having to look after the heavier work. The girls are not by any means to be shut out of this develop- ment plan, and surely in America we need not fear their standing aloof. They will do their share of cultivating the gardens and soil, and continuing along the lines of the Froebel method will produce truly artistic work. The more pleasure they find in manual employment the better it will be. I saw girls in Boston merrily engaged in kitchen work, and again in New York, others cutting out their commencement dresses, and this pleased me ex- 126 Greeting to America ceedingly. How much better than to do Sloyd work — for what do we want with inartistic occupation in our highly civiHzed countries. It might be of ser- vice in the new Klondyke regions and newly discov- ered gold fields, or in the wildest parts of the " wild, wild West," or in the backwoods, but most of us buy our wooden spoons and lemon squeezers for a few pennies, and we are so spoiled that we expect even pretty patterns. The Sloyd is a blessing as an evening occupation for peasants and fishers in lonely, isolated villages and along the coasts of Northern Europe which are in a certain degree undeveloped. If it finds a place in these communities I cannot see how it accords with our culture, and I begrudge every moment that is taken from the too short school course, and spent in unnecessary occupations. Be- sides such rude wood carving spoils the hands and fingers of women, who need soft hands for the tender touch of the nurse and for all the beautiful work done in life. And so I think we can buy the necessary im- plements for household use, and can order our food to be cooked and brought from restaurants, but every mother must care for her child, and guard it espec- ially in the early years, and to do this properly she must have the very best early training — so again I plead for the introduction of the Froebel method into the course of study in the higher classes for girls. Of all the necessary things it is the most necessary. CHAPTER XV A FAIRY TALE In response to the request of the American ladies, that I should send them some of my " stories," I present them with the following fairy tale, which I wrote to amuse my dear aunt after the day's fatigu- ing mental work. It is one of a collection an entire volume called " Abend marlein fur mein Miitterlin " (Evening tales for my little mother) which I dedicated to my aunt (whom I always called " mein Mutterlein") under Goethe's verse: " For thee were it better To lie here reviving In coolness thy body Outwearied with striving — The rest that eludes thee To taste and be free I will rustle and murmur And whisper to thee. II Faust. Translated by Bayard Taylor. THE FLOWER MONSTER A mild May rain fell softly and quietly on the thirsty flowers and leaves, which it refreshed as with a delicious drink. Although it brushed off many of 127 128 Greeting to America the tender stemmed lilac and fruit blossoms to the earth, their sister flowers bloomed the more beau- tiful, and there was a wonderfully delicate Maylike fragrance in forest and meadow. But the little four-legged creatures who so gaily creep and crawl over the plants from the large trees down to the grass blades do not love the rain as much as the plants do, and so they hide under them, seeking pro- tection from the fine May rain which to them is like a heavy shower. Under the wide spreading Rib-wort which grew thickly along the way, and seemed like a covered forest to them, many of these little crawlers had gathered, and while they listened to the down drop- ping rain on the leafy roof above them, they told the news of their little world. Among the number were many May bugs, lady- bugs, spiders of all kinds and black ground bugs, and these grouped themselves with great curiosity around the disagreeable May bug who had just told them the greatest bit of news. " Now, what more do you want," he grumbled, " I haven't seen it myself and can tell you only what I heard." " But do tell us, dear May bug," said the lively lady-bug, " a flower monster ! such a thing must be impossible — a flower that unlike others, does not live on dew, air and sunshine, but seizes living insects and sucks their blood. O this is incredible." A Fairy Tale 129 " Well, I cannot account for its being so," abruptly- answered the story teller. " And you do not even know its name? " pursued the little questioner. " And are we not already sur- rounded by many enemies who lie in wait for us in the air and earth — and must we now have to fear the sweet little flowers, and fly about anxiously lest we be eaten by them too ? " " Indeed, this is terrible," chimed in the others, " but this must be investigated and we must inform ourselves if this flower monster really exists, what it is named and where it lives, so that we can guard ourselves against it." After long discussions and many disputes, the in- sects finally concluded to send several of their num- ber on voyages of discovery, and these were to meet at this same place and at a certain fixed hour, to bring the accounts of their experiences in the search for the flower monster. Our little lady-bug was one of the emissaries chosen. It looked out carefully from under the leafy forest to see whether the rain had ceased, when with a thump down fell a large drop from the leaf above on its head. But that was a fright ! the poor lady-bug sank immediately into unconsciousness, that is, it laid itself upon its back and drew in its feelers and legs. Such a drop of water is like a bucketful to these little insects, and why should they not become unconscious after such a downpour. But the 130 Greeting to America water ran off quickly from its glossy body, and our little lady-bug presently stretched out its legs, then its feelers, and at last crawled up on its legs and shook itself. " Oh ! what a shock ! " it said, and ran rapidly under the leaf to escape other drops. *' Hurrah ! the rain is over, and here comes the sun," and with that it spread its wings, first the smooth black red-flecked ones, and then the under robe of transparent gauzy wings, and whizz — away it flew into the air and over the meadow. " Where can it be," mused the tiny traveler, " this terrible monster, and how does it look. Certainly red, blood red or at least spotted with red — ugh! but it is indeed too terrible ! " It looked down distrustingly on all its good old friends in the meadow, at the harmless snap dragon spreading his leaves in the sunshine, and the little bell flowers on which rain drops were still trembling, and even at the innocent dainty daisies, and the dear sweet blue forget-me-nots. But the lady-bug saw how peacefully they grew thus together, and stood side by side without a trace of the extraordinary or bloodthirsty about them — and so it approached them courageously and asked : " Do you know the flower monster? " " The flower monster ! " they repeated with a titter as they wonderingly nudged one another. " What is it, what can it be? " and then they were duly told of the purpose of the lady-bug's travel. A Fairy Tale 131 " We know nothing," said the flowers; " we bloom only in the sunshine and have nothing in common with such as you tell us of." But they chuckled and chatted as with many nods they discussed the news the lady-bug brought — as flowers and insects under- stand one another, and the little lady-bug could hear what the flowers were saying, as it flew away over the meadow and down to a mossy bit of earth near the brook, where lived the dearest friend it possessed. To her the lady-bug flew as often as it could to con- fide all it knew, sitting in the moss opposite in deep contemplation of her beauty. She was hardly more than a span's height and her yellow eyes looked out so childlike and innocently from the many little rosy white petals, which formed as it were a crown. Down below on the stem beautiful green leaves spread themselves over the ground. Tender red veins were traced through the green, and around every leaf, shone a row of clear transparent drops that seemed to be pressed out of it, and shimmered in the sunlight like a necklace of diamonds. " Sweet little sundew, or as others call you, Drosera,"* said her little admirer, " here I am again, but only think of what I have to tell you — of what I am seeking to-day," and then the story of the flower monster was told. The Drosera listened and her diamond necklace * Drosera— belonging to the well known family Drosera rotundi foli. 132 Greeting to America gleamed, while the little insect sat still and looked at her, because it thought her so beautiful. Suddenly the lady-bug became enraged, and its feelers trembled with anger as a large daddy-long- legs spider with its long legs flew directly towards the Drosera. " You clumsy thing," it called out, advanc- ing courageously toward the intruder, " Can't you see that a lady is standing here — did one ever see such rudeness ? " and presently the daddy-long- legs fell over on its side in the grass from a pinch in one of its legs which the little lady-bug had given it. " He doesn't know any better," murmured the Sundew, " you must excuse him." " Yes, but you are so good," rejoined her com- panion, " altogether too good, — but good bye, I must now resume my travels, and will soon visit you again," and with a wafted kiss and salute, our would-be-discoverer flew further to its hermit friend who lived by a rock. This was the Thousandfoot, or Scolopendra. Like most of his family he had grown old and wise, having kept his eyes and ears open during the course of his long life. At the base of the rock was his hermitage, a small opening grown thickly over with moss, and here the centipede lay stretched out full length, sunning himself after the rain, for dampness combined with sunshine is the right weather for him. A Fairy Tale 133 " It is long since my eyes have seen you, and although I possess many legs, they become weaker and more languid with each day, and so I cannot visit such flighty creatures as you are." " Thousandfoot," said the lady-bug, " I too am weary, but it is from seeking. Do you, who have had so much experience, know of a flower monster that feeds on the blood of insects ? " The centipede drew himself together as if consid- ering. He knew nothing of the matter, but he would not acknowledge his ignorance. " For many years," he began, " I traveled for my instruction, and once I went to the park behind a village. I lived for several weeks by the walls of the conservatory, and many times looked through the windows, and once, too, I even took a walk among the plants in the hot-house, but I could not stand the heat. Here I saw, however, two plants which are doubtless those you are seeking — I wanted to crawl over the leaves and onto the branch of one of these, but I nearly fell off, for as soon as my front legs touched the leaf, its edges folded together under me. Later I noticed that this strange plant did this at the lightest touch. She was called, I remember it dis- tinctly, the ' Modest Mimosa.' " " Oh, no," said the lady-bird, " the flower mon- ster is not so bashful, on the contrary, she seizes everything that comes near her." " Then," answered the centipede, " it must be the 134 Greeting to America other plant. This one closed securely over whatever fell or crawled upon her, and her leaves held them fast until their strength was exhausted, and she thus embraced them until they died." " Did she suck their blood, did she feed herself with them? " inquired the eager listener full of ex- pectation. " No, she let the dead bodies fall as soon as she felt no movement or further opposition. I often saw dozens of these corpses lying on the flower pot." " Then this cannot be the right flower monster, either," sighed the lady-bug, " for mine sucks the blood instead of living on dew and sunshine — it is horrible!" The centipede was silent with vexation. After a little pause the lady-bug continued, " how is it that one's existence is dependent on the destruc- tion of others — the midge buzzes and dines gaily off little insects that come his way in the air, but the spider is waiting longingly in her net, and soon the midge has fallen into the snare, and become the victim of the spider. But while she is busy devour- ing her prisoner, down flies a bird and snaps her up, and then hides himself covertly in the bushes, for enemies without number are ready to take his life in order that they may live. Such is the course of Na- ture — a continual destruction." " They will be punished by the very sins they have committed," grumbled the centipede, " but do not A Fairy Tale 135 forget that from every destruction or death springs new Hfe and prosperity — sometime, according to my views, there must be an equahzing and reconciling of all these things — when everything will be so en- nobled and purified that this annihilation of others in order that life may go on, will not be a necessity of being, but this time is yet far off, I fear, and until then we must submit to our fate. I scent an enemy, for there is such a rustling in the moss forest — yes, there he comes, the miserable horned beetle. Let us seek refuge in my hermitage, dear friend, which is too narrow for the invader. Not even in old age are we allowed to live in peace, and devote our years to meditation — everywhere eternal necessity pursues us for life through destruction." Shaking their heads they retired into safety until the enemy had passed on, when the lady-bug fllew away, carefully buzzing along the rocky wall and then soaring into the dizzy heights. Wherever in the crevices of the rocks a bit of earth rested, the flowers had blossomed forth, but they were all so gentle and joyous in looks and manners — and they as well as the large Rhododendron that grows at such heights that it can look far over the country, knew nothing of the flower monster. The little insect came back to earth, and as it flew slowly over the fields, it noticed suddenly a flower that certainly looked extraordinary, and close beside it, another stranger still in appearance. They ap- 136 Greeting to America peared to be relatives, for they had decided family; resemblances. One of the plants looked as though covered by myriads of little mosquitoes; this was most deceptive, for on looking closely one could see that they were flowers and not insects. The other plant looked almost frightful, for between white-leaved petals that were like two upward float- ing wings of doves, a death's head was set. " Surely this must be it," the lady-bug murmured, seating itself in the grass to observe the plant further. But insects of all kinds flew around and upon the flower, speaking confidingly to it, and then unharmed flying away again. Then our little observer taking heart also ap- proached and spoke to the death's head, and learned that its name was Orchis Moris, and that its cousin standing by bore also the same name. When the insect had told the Orchis honestly what its impres- sion of her had been, she answered : " I know that I am strange looking, perhaps ugly, but withal I am not wicked and I do no one any harm. There is the mole, who has dragged my roots half out of the earth, — spiders and bugs crawl over me and buzz in my ears, all this T do not like, but I do not defend myself, for I do not even know how." " You are right," said her listener, quite ashamed. " There lives at some distance the prickly thorn, it looks truly barbaric, yet we know how peaceful and A Fairy Tale 137 innccent he is. Just so with the unapproachable thistle. She herself is sorrowful if one comes too near and gets pricked, for she has a soft heart under her hard covering. But yoit are not ugly, Orchis, for only the unnatural is ugly. Above your death's head is the emblem of resurrection, a pair of inno- cent doves flying towards Heaven — surely a beauti- ful thought, my Orchis floweret. But I must return, for when the sun sets I must be again under the Ribwort to give an account of myself, but I have nothing to tell, for I have found nothing. Perhaps the whole thing is only a fable." So it flew back over the meadow until it again rested beside its beloved friend, the Drosera. She stood as quiet and lovely as ever, with the splendor of the diamond rays about her, and the visitor look- ing at her could only gaze and admire as it told its story. " But," and this indignantly, " how can anyone be so rude — somebody has thrown a shrivelled spider's leg right under your leaves, and here lies another " — and the little creature carried them an- grily to one side. " Politeness and gallantry towards ladies seems (in the world) to be coming to an end," it grumbled, coming back to its place to admire fur- ther the Sundew flower. " Beware, take care, she is false," whispered a tiny moss flower in the lady-bug's ear," — but enraged over such a slander, the insect quickly bit the head 138 Greeting to America of the floweret off. Now the moss would no longer be able to give warning, and must await the coming of the following spring. Just at this moment as if by accident a little ant came running by. She seemed to be in great haste and ran directly across the flower, and before the angered lady-bug could prevent it, she was on one of the red-veined leaves of the Drosera. Oh, hor- ror! what did the little observer have to see, poor thing. One of the diamond drops on the leaf's edge covered the leg of the ant as with glue, and then the entire leaf quickly closed together around the pris- oner and pressed it tightly, " Oh, I am dying, my blood is going " — the ant called out, but presently her voice died away. The poor little lady-bug seemed frozen to the spot — in- voluntarily turning on its back with feelers and legs drawn in. On coming to itself it called out, " Oh, you shameless one, you detestable creature, and I thought you so good, so innocent — oh, how abom- inable." " I cannot help it," murmured the flower, it is not my fault that I cannot live on dew and sunshine, but it is my nature, — I must, must eat." " Then devour me too," cried the despairing in- sect, " for I no longer desire to live." " Keep back," warned the flower, " you must die if you touch me." But it was too late, for the lady-bug had rushed A Fairy Tale 139 blindly onto the leaves, and like the ant was soon a prisoner. The leaf closed tightly over it and the red veins sucked its blood — Then the sun went down. The insects had as- sembled at the appointed place and told all they had not been able to find out during their voyages of dis- covery. As I believe this happens often with such journeys, so it was nothing extraordinary. But the lady-bug did not appear — and at last, it was decided to search for the traveler. A glow worm, with its lantern, preceded the pro- cession. There, by the Drosera in the moss, and beside the wounded brown moss floweret, they found the black and red mantle of their companion. Then began their lamentations — " Some enemy has destroyed you, poor friend," they wailed — as they buried the mantle with great splendor and ceremony. Our brave one shall have a fine obituary and a beautiful monument with a fitting inscription, for having fallen in the service of knowledge. " I know, I know all about it," whispered the mosses together, waving their brown heads, and soon the whole meadow was singing of the story of the little lady-bug murdered by its friend. The insects listened, and then filled with rage gath- ered themselves into a body and advanced towards the Drosera. There she stood, calm as ever, looking out from her rosy white blossoms with the same in- 140 Greeting to America nocent eyes, and around her leaves the sparkle of diamond dew-drops. The revengeful insects rushed upon her, biting her smooth stem and nipping at the roots. But the leaves seized upon the enemies and many met their death. But the flower said as be- fore, " I cannot help it. I must, must eat." Her stem was drooping and her crown fell upon one of her own leaves, which closed, dying over the beauti- ful flowers which it watered with tears of dew. When the sun again rose, the flower lay withered on the ground, surrounded by numbers of murdered insects which the powerless leaves had to surrender. Many insects and other flowers looked on the scene of battle, and the moss sang of it, but the story was soon forgotten, for there are so many other things in the world. The summer passed by and after the Winter sleep came Spring with her May, and with her soft rain and delicious fragrance in forest and field. But in the mossy meadow by the brook, a charming flower blossomed again, and once more her necklace of dew sparkled in the sunshine. " Flies and mosquitoes and all you crawling crea- tures, take care — what appears so charming may also be dangerous." It is always the same in Nature — Death and New Life — and the while the beautiful Drosera still sings " I must, must eat." CHAPTER XVI THE HARBOR OF NEW YORK Almost like a fairy vision appear my recollections of the harbor of New York — with its wave-beaten island rising from between the waters of its two mighty streams, its heaven-towering, white buildings looming up from the shore like Cleopatra Needles, and the broad arch of the magnificent Brooklyn bridge spanning from shore to shore. Calm and sublime in the midst of all this powerfully pulsating life, stands the majestic statue of Liberty guarding the entrance to the country and greeting the thou- sands of wanderers who come to its hospitable shores from across the ocean. Some driven by many sor- rows to find rest here, others seeking a livelihood and many coming to hide themselves after life's failures, or, with the last glimmer of hope, striving to begin life anew. To all, Liberty opens her arms and offers a welcome. Often in the night when the dismal hollow sounds of the steam whistles in the harbor waked me from my dreams, I shuddered when I heard their sorrow- ful tones. To me they were the disappointed hopes 141 142 Greeting to America of the friendless and starving souls — the cry ascend- ing to Heaven of the thousands in the endless stream of the suffering and striving. The stranger in the great city notices but little of all this misery, and a visitor of distinction receives comparatively few of the begging letters, which beset us in our own country and which make one very mis- erable. Although my arrival was announced in all the New York papers, and my movements duly chronicled, I was spared all this unhappiness. Only once or twice did I encounter those very sad types of the shabby genteel in faded shiny coats, but with the manners, the voice and features of the gentleman, now reduced to earning a pittance as a voluble can- vasser, or looking like an adventurer. I cannot easily forget these pathetic figures that grate so on heart and nerves. I am not conversant with all the means provided in New York and other seaport cities, for maintain- ing the countless strangers until they are self-sup- porting, but it seems to me that it would be a divinely rewarded service to care for such beings who have once stood so high, and must therefore feel the more severely the pangs of misery because shame is added to the bitterness of want. One other glimpse into the misery of life was ac- corded me, one that strangers rarely see. We trav- eled from Boston to Baltimore through New York by rail, and on the Hudson, our entire train was The Harbor of New York 143 transferred to a ferry-boat and thus carried around the lower part of the city and up the East River to the junction. Two or three hours were consumed in this trip, and we had an opportunity of seeing a side of Hfe, or in other words, the reverse of the pic- ture presented by glorious New York, and which the prosperous and happy do not willingly look upon. All these city institutions on the islands separated from the great central intercourse, we had a view of as we steamed slowly past — of hospitals, infirmaries and alms-houses for old men and women, and asy- lums of different kinds. How singular it appeared to find old couples who were not allowed to live under the same roof, but must meet in specified places, and at certain times. Here to their rendezvous these gray haired married pairs go with faltering steps, so dif- ferent from the meetings of long ago, when they were brown haired lovers with laughing eyes. I saw many of these groups on the steps in animated talk, but certainly the topics were not the same as those of fifty years ago. Then we passed by with a secret shudder the in- sane, who were crouching by the door of the asylum, many hundreds together in the sunshine — a discon- solate, hopeless sight. We were so close to the shore that we could see their faces quite plainly, old and young men and women, negroes and even Indians were among the number. Escape from the asylum is well nigh impossible, for high walls of masonry 144 Greeting to America surround it on one side, and on the other hand is the water — and the water is so deep and swift. As we passed by the orphan and foundhng asy- lums we saw children of all ages playing in the sand, and from the windows of the latter institution garments of all kinds were hanging to air or dry, and this decided country-like effect amused me very much. But then came something terrible, the sight of convicts heavily chained and harnessed to a wagon, with the overseer armed and watchful. Penitentiaries must be a necessity when one thinks of what dregs of mankind settle in this crowded city, and yet these sights present a strange contrast to the statue of Liberty in the background. But among my remembrances gayer, brighter pic- tures of New York and its harbor remain with me happily. When visiting strange cities I gladly seek out that quarter which lies apart from the elegant residence portion, and where one can see the real life of the common people. So with my dear friend Mme. Kraus-Boelte, I drove many times through the nar- row streets in the neighborhood of the docks, and enjoyed the side of life I saw there depicted. A de- cidedly Southern impression was recalled on seeing so many negroes, and piles of fruit displayed for sale on tables in front of the doors, and in between all the traffic were bright colored wagons or omnibuses where hot food could be obtained all day or all night. Of course black cats appeared in numbers here on the The Harbor of New York 145 streets too, but I noticed very few dogs. But every- where in this district, on street crossings and among the crowds on Broadway the greatest order pre- vailed, with the protecting poHceman always in evi- dence with his peculiar helmet and short club. When one sees all these types in the seething, mov- ing mass of mankind, one thinks of the Brownie Book which parodies them so charmingly. How wonderful it must seem to the old people to watch not only the almost incredible growth of cities like New York and Chicago, but to note the rapid progress and development everywhere going on. I received a picture of the Fifth Avenue Hotel as it stood fifty-five years ago, — a small house from which the " Stars and Stripes " gaily fluttered, with a veranda for guests, and fields all around it — now this hotel is like a palace set in the midst of the busiest thoroughfare, and around which flows the unceasing stream of a great city's life. Delightfully interesting are the trips in the ferry- boats that ply on the East River to Brooklyn and to the railroad stations. Here one is carried among the crowds of large and small ships of all nations and into the foamy waters of the ocean which shimmers in the distance. A truly floodlike rain poured down during my last few days' stay in New York, and I feared I should have to leave America as I had entered it — in the rain. But fortunately our steamer's departure was 146 Greeting to America delayed a day, and under the most beautiful blue sky and in almost tropical weather, I drove to the dock. With the pain of parting from all the dear, good friends, was mingled the hope that I might som.etime welcome them to m^y own home. The Americans love to travel, and it is their heart's desire to see Eu- rope once at least. There is a conscious and an un- conscious homesickness — and no doubt it is the latter which prompts the Americans' mighty longing and draws them powerfully across the ocean to the mother country. It is indeed the old one, they say with emotion, for many of them have had the old homes and country pictures from their parents and grandparents. Even after generations have lived in the New World, which has long since become their home, a powerful magnet draws the most patriotic Americans to the old country, " the land of their fathers." It is the imconscious, inherited homesick- ness. It is a charming.custom in New York to cheer the parting guests by escorting them to the steamer, where, surrounded by friends and acquaintances, the traveler sees many greetings in faces and eyes, and as the dock is cleared, looks out on the hundreds who are peering through the windows and doors of the wharf sheds, and waving adieux with their handkerchiefs. Through the tears of parting sadness, gleams the comfort of love and sympathy. Long after the dear faces had vanished from my The Harbor of New York 147 bedimmed eyes, I looked back on the magnificent, in- comparable harbor of New York, with the gratitude of a deeply touched heart. Farewell, fareivell, won- derful, beautiful country, where mankind, while striving hard for the material, has not lost that which alone makes life truly worthy of man — the as- piration toward the Ideal. THE END C 310 88 . ■Ca ' . « » « k> . 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