The Four Corners Abroad

"Well there is the Englischer Garden, a beautiful park that isn't walled in like some of those in England. There is a playground for children there and fine walks and drives. Then just now the October Fest is going on; it is something like our county fair at home."

"Are there merry-go-rounds and side-shows?"

"Yes, ever so many."

"Good!" Jack brought her hands smartly together.

"And then there are the museums full of all sorts of interesting things that you will like to see. On Saturdays we can make lovely excursions to Starnberger See or the Isarthal, and on some other days there is music played by military bands in different places. I believe it is every day at the Guardhouse on the Marienplatz, and every other day at the Feldhernhalle on the Odeonsplatz, but we can find out exactly. Those are amusements of the present; in winter there will be other things."

"What?"

"Well, there will be lots of skating."

"I can't skate very well."

"It will be a fine chance to learn here. About Christmas time there is always a fairy play for children, and at other times there is the marionette theatre that you and Jean will adore. Then, too, we shall probably go to the mountains for the holidays where you can see all sorts of funny doings."

"What kind?"

"Oh, ski-ing, and rodeling and all that."

"They're funny words, and I haven't the least idea what they mean."

"Ski is spelled with a k, but it is pronounced as if it were she, and rodeling means simply tobogganing on a small sled. Skis are great long things something like snow-shoes. I am crazy to learn to ski, for it must be something like flying. Then there will be the carnival that begins in January, though I don't suppose we shall see much of that. Besides, Jack," she went on, "the Munich streets are lovely. There are so many pretty squares and parks and fountains, not to mention the shops, so I don't think we could get very lonely or bored. After all I have told you I am sure you will think it is a nice place to be in, and that we shall have a good time here."

"I know I shall when you are around, you dear old Nan," said Jack, rubbing her cheek against her sister's.

"Even Aunt Helen is going to study," Nan said. "She knows French mighty well but her German isn't up to the scratch, she thinks, and she says while studying is in the air she will take advantage of it."

"We aren't going to stay in this hotel, are we?"

"No, we are going to a pension Aunt Helen knows of. There isn't room for us there now, but next week there will be, and we shall probably stay there till we go to Italy. Aunt Helen says it is nice and homelike, and we can be left there in perfect safety if mother and she have to go away."

"Will there be any other little girls?"

"I don't know. Very likely there will be. Now I must go and practice that dreadful Bach thing that I am getting ready for to-morrow." She gave Jack a hug and went off.

"Nan's such a nice old comfort," said Jack to her mother. "She always smooths out the wrinkles for me. I hope she won't get married before I do."

"I don't think I would begin to worry about that just yet," said Mrs. Corner smiling.

"Oh, I'm not worrying; I'm just taking time by the oar-lock."

Mrs. Corner laughed outright while Jack wondered why.

"Mayn't we go out into that pretty square where the big fountain is?" she asked.

"I don't like you to go alone."

"But it is so near. You can look out of the window and see it, and I am asking permission," said Jack as if the mere matter of asking were all sufficient.

"But you know over here in Europe little girls don't run about as freely as they do at home. Get one of your older sisters to go with you."

"Nan can't; she has to practice and Mary Lee has gone somewhere with Jo, and Aunt Helen went to see about lessons or books or something."

"Then I will go with you and sit by the fountain while you amuse yourselves."

This arrangement pleased the twins mightily. The big Wittelsbacher fountain in the Maximilianplatz was a thing to be admired and they were never tired of watching, what Jack called, its big splash of water. "I feel so satisfied when I look at it," she told her mother. "I never saw a fountain with so much water all going at once."

"I wish we could have brought over our dear little doggie," said Jean as she watched numberless little dachshunds trotting by.

"We couldn't very well do it," Mrs. Corner told her, "for we should have had to carry him around everywhere, and there is a law in some countries which makes it very hard for travelers to bring in their dogs. He is much better off where he is."

"I am afraid he will forget me," said Jack, whose dog the little creature really was.

"I don't doubt but that he will be quite ready to make friends again," her mother told her.

"I never saw such a crauntity of dogs as there are in Munich," said Jean. "I think everybody must own a dog, and there are more dachshunds than any other kind."

"I like them best," Jack declared. "With their little short legs and long bodies they look so funny, and they have such serious faces as if they had something to do and it was very important that they should get it done."

"There come Aunt Helen and the girls," cried Jean.

Miss Helen with Mary Lee on one side and Jo on the other mounted the little incline which led past the bench where the three were sitting. "Why," cried Miss Helen, "what are you doing here?"

"Mother came over with us to sit by the fountain. Isn't it a beauty, Aunt Helen? We like it so much."

"I like it, too, and we are so pleasantly near it. Indeed, I think this is a very convenient part of the city, for we are within walking distance of almost everything. Where is Nan?"

"She said she had to get that music into her fingers before to-morrow, so she is the only one who didn't come out-of-doors."

Miss Helen sank down on the bench by the side of Mrs. Corner. "I am tired," she said, "and in this thoroughly democratic place where one can do exactly as she pleases, I don't mind sitting openly in a square where the public passes by. That is one of the things I like about Munich. Nobody seems to mind wandering about deliberately. Men and women take time to stare into the shop-windows, and no one pays the least attention to them. You can wear your old clothes and not feel that you are dressed worse than half your neighbors. People here seem to live for something more than to change the fashion of their sleeves and to rush for ferry-boats and trains. They take time to enjoy themselves, as few do at home. I wonder if it is too late for a cup of tea. I feel the need of one."

Mrs. Corner consulted her watch. "It is just a little after five."

"Then, Jack," said Miss Helen, "go tell Nan she has practiced long enough and I want her to come with you to join us at the Conditorei on the Promenadeplatz. We will go there and you can meet us; it is only a little way from here."

Jack scampered off to obey, for this would be a new entertainment and Nan must not miss it.

"What is a Conditorei?" asked Jean.

"It means a confectioner's as near as I can make out, though this one seems to be a tea-room as well. It is a very pleasant place to go. You can choose your cakes at the counter and take them to the table with you, or else you can order them brought. I generally like to pick out what I would like best."

"That is what I should like," said Jean with much satisfaction, "for then you get them sooner. I am very glad you came along, Aunt Helen, for we mightn't have gone to the tea place if you hadn't."

Jack and Nan soon appeared, and the girls found it a very agreeable thing to sit in the pleasant little place watching the persons who came and went. There were many Americans among them, and the Germans were noticeable from taking their pet dogs with them here, as to other shops.

"You always see a collection of the dear things outside the big department stores," said Mary Lee. "I've counted a dozen sometimes, and even outside the churches you see them sometimes waiting for their masters. I like the way they are made to belong to the family and taken out as a matter of course; only sometimes they get so tired and look so bored and unhappy, though no doubt they would rather go than be left at home."

"I like those magnificent horses," said Nan. "I never believed there were horses with such noble arched necks, except in pictures or in statuary. They are the biggest things I ever saw, such great massive splendid specimens."

"They come from the north of Germany," Miss Helen told her. "They are used for draught horses, and you always see them harnessed to the big wagons. The oxen here are very large, too, and you will often see them hauling a load of bricks or stones through the streets."

"I have noticed a rather curious thing," remarked Mrs. Corner. "Sometimes you will see a wagon with a horse harnessed to one side the pole and not in shafts; it has a most curious effect, a very one-sided look."

"I saw something funnier than that," said Jack: "a man and a dog pulling a cart piled up with all sorts of stuff, old chairs and bits of stovepipe and things like that. The dog was pulling just as hard as the man and when the man stopped the dog lay down and seemed so pleased to think he had been helping. I liked that dog earning his living. I hope he gets well paid for it in nice food with plenty of bones to gnaw."

Here Jean heaved a long sigh having eaten the last morsel of her cake. "It was so good," she said. "May I have another piece, mother?"

"My dear child, I think one slice of that rich Prinz-Regenten cake is quite enough for one afternoon. Another time, but not now," and Jean mournfully accepted the decree.

"Speaking of Prinz-Regenten," said Miss Helen, "I am sorry we had to miss the Wagner Festival at the Prinz-Regenten Theatre, but we had to give that up or the trip to England."

"I really don't think we have been unwise in taking England instead," said Mrs. Corner, "for we shall be here long enough to enjoy all the opera necessary. The prices at the Festival are so very high, five dollars for a single performance, and I am told it is chiefly tourists who patronize the opera then. Sensible people wait till they can hear the same singers later on at a lower price."

"Nan is wild to hear Herr Knote," said Jo. "She already has ten post-card pictures of him and is always on the lookout for more."

"Of course," returned Nan. "He is the greatest German tenor, and why shouldn't I want to hear him; besides he isn't like some of the others, for everybody in Munich respects him and that speaks well, for he lives here."

"How do you know so much?" asked her mother.

"My music teacher told me."

"So that is what you talk about."

"It is one of the things. I am supposed to get history of music as well as the theory and practice, and he belongs to the history, I am sure."

"Without doubt," her aunt assured her, rising to go. "Well, Nan, I hope you will not be disappointed when you hear him."

"I know I shall not be," said Nan with conviction. "Frau Burg-Schmidt says his voice is simply great."

They wandered out into the street and across the fine Maximilianplatz to their hotel, feeling that they had chosen well in settling in Munich for six months.

CHAPTER X

A NIGHT ADVENTURE

Nan was going to the Grand Opera for the first time in her life and she was in a state of wild excitement over it. As yet the Corners had not learned the mysterious workings attending ticket buying in Munich, and it seemed to them the most difficult of undertakings.

"From all I can learn," said Miss Helen, "there are three places in which you can buy tickets. The programme is generally announced at the end of each week for the following week, and the tickets are for sale on Sunday morning. You can rise before six o'clock and go stand in line till nine, when the office of the Hof-theatre is open. If you are lucky you may not have to stand more than an hour after that, and if it is not a subscription performance, or as they call it, an abonnement, you may get a good place for a small sum. Missing your chance at the Hof-theatre, you can rush off to the old Academia to take the same chances. If the Academia fails you there is still the Kiosk in the Maximilianplatz. The trouble is, however, that you seldom know until the day of the performance who is going to sing."

"It seems to me a most unsatisfactory arrangement," returned Mrs. Corner. "I could never stand in line for hours, Helen, and surely you should not and we cannot let either of the girls do it."

"Perhaps we shall find an easier way after a while," Miss Helen replied. "When we get to the pension no doubt we shall learn the ropes from Fräulein Bauer. We will wait till then. I have heard that sometimes when the Ring is to be given, the students take their blankets and camp out by eight of the evening before the tickets are to be sold. A friend told me that one student hired a Dienstmann to stand in line for him, paying him six marks, and by the time his turn came in the morning all the tickets had been sold, though I believe that was for a subscription night."

To hear all this was a disappointment to Nan who had hoped that opera would be one of the first pleasures she should have, and she resolved that as soon as they were settled in their pension she would interview Fräulein Bauer on her own account and see if there were really as many difficulties as reported, or if it was merely a matter of knowing how.

It was, however, upon the very day that they arrived bag and baggage at Fräulein Bauer's that Nan came home from her music lesson in a turmoil of excitement. "Frau Burg-Schmidt wants me to go to the opera with her to hear Lohengrin," she cried. "She says I should hear Lohengrin the first of the Wagner operas. Lohengrin and Knote of all things! Oh, mother, say I can go. Quick, please, please."

"My dear, don't get so excited. I don't see why you shouldn't go. I suppose Frau Burg-Schmidt will bring you home."

"Of course. At least she said we could take the car from the Hof-theatre right to our nearest corner. I am to telephone if I can go and she will meet me in front of the theatre, or if I miss her there I have the number of the seat and she will wait in the corridor by the garderobe place nearest. It is dritte Rang, Loge II Vorderplatz 1 and 2."

"It is all Dutch to me," said Mrs. Corner smiling. "But, Nan, you must not go out alone after night even to meet her."

"But it won't be after night. It begins at six o'clock when it is broad daylight or nearly so."

"Six o'clock?"

"Yes, all the operas begin at six or seven and sometimes the very long ones begin as early as four or five. I shall be home early, you will see."

"What a queer idea, and when shall you get your supper?"

"I'll take a bite before I go and nibble something after I get back. You can save me a brodchin from supper, mother, and a bit of ham or sausage; that will be enough."

"It certainly is a peculiar arrangement, to have next to nothing before one starts out and probably be so hungry that there must be a hearty meal just before going to bed."

"But I may go? It is such a chance, for Frau Burg-Schmidt will explain the motifs to me, and tell me when to look for them. She just happened to have the ticket because her husband was called away on business."

"You may go, since it seems an unusual opportunity which I couldn't deprive you of."

"Then I will go telephone."

"You'd better get Fräulein Bauer to do it for you."

"All right."

Nan was not long in concluding her arrangements and next turned her attention to her dress. "I suppose I ought to wear something rather nice," she said to her mother.

"Yes, I think you should. One of your prettiest white frocks will do."

"And my white coat and gloves."

"Yes, the coat will be warm enough, I am sure."

"I don't suppose I ought to wear a hat." Nan was doubtful.

"Probably not. You can put your pink Liberty scarf over your head and you may take my opera glasses."

Nan felt very grand indeed when she was ready to start out, opera bag on arm and spotless gloves on her hands. At the last moment her mother demurred in the matter of going without a hat on the street. "I think you would better wear one," she decided, "and you can leave it at the wardrobe with your coat if necessary, for it does look queer to see you going forth without a hat while it is yet light." So Nan laid aside the scarf and put on a light hat.

"I think myself that I feel more comfortable this way," she said. "I will keep my eyes open and see what other persons do, so as to know the next time."

"You have money with you? In case it rains you must come home in a cab and send Frau Burg-Schmidt in it after you have been dropped at your own door. Be sure to pay the cocher for both courses and give him a tip, so Frau Burg-Schmidt will be at no expense on your account."

"Yes, mother."

"And you know the way perfectly? Perhaps you would better go in a cab anyhow to make sure. I don't feel quite comfortable to see you start out alone."

"Oh, no, mother, I'd much rather walk; it is really no distance at all and Frau Burg-Schmidt says lots of girls go alone and that it is perfectly safe. Munich isn't like Paris."

"Then have a good time, dearie. Good-bye."

Nan put up her mouth for a kiss and started off, her mother watching her from the window and feeling a little uneasy still. Miss Helen was out and so were the other girls. "Perhaps I should have gone with her," said Mrs. Corner to herself, "for even though I am tired we could have taken a cab, but it was all so unexpected and Nan was in such a hurry to get off I didn't think of it. I hope she is all right."

When Miss Helen returned she assured her sister that she need have no fears for Nan. "She will find her way without difficulty, I am sure," she said, "and even if the Frau isn't there she knows enough German to inquire her way to the seats. I have seen numbers of girls going about alone and Nan knows perfectly well how to take care of herself."

Indeed Nan had no difficulty at all in reaching the Hof-theatre, nor in distinguishing the plainly dressed figure standing at the foot of the steps waiting for her. She trembled with excitement at the sound of the first note of the orchestra, and for the remainder of the time was utterly lost in the fortunes of Lohengrin and Elsa, in the wonderful music, and between acts in the strange surroundings. It pleased Frau Burg-Schmidt to see the intent look on the girl's face, and the tensely clasped hands. "She has temperament," she told herself, as Nan's old teacher at home had said before.

"Oh, it is over," sighed the girl when the curtain went down after the last act. "It was so short."

Frau Burg-Schmidt laughed. "Not so short; it has been several hours."

"So long as that? I can scarcely believe it."

"And it is not quite over, for see, they call out the singers over and over again."

Nan watched with pleased smiles while from the galleries came continued applause, tempestuous clappings of hands with cries for "Knote! Knote! Knote! Bravo! Bravo!"

"It is an enthusiastic audience. These Müncheners do always so," said Nan's companion. "We do not fear to applaud when we like a thing."

At last the outer curtain was dropped, but even then the calls and clappings went on, but that was the last of it for the tenor would not appear again.

Nan went home in a dream. She followed Frau Burg-Schmidt mechanically into the car, and sat down, her vision still filled with the picture of Lohengrin disappearing from view in his swan boat. She scarcely heard when Frau Burg-Schmidt said good-night to her.

"Here is your corner, my dear," she told her. "You are but a few steps from your door and you have your key, so I will not wait for I must change here and my car comes."

Nan had but a few steps to go before she stood in front of the great door of the building in which was her pension. She felt in her bag for her key. Fräulein Bauer had said there would be a light burning and a candle set for her. She fumbled around for some minutes but could not find her keys. She tried the handle of the door; it would not turn. In Munich evidently everything was closed up early. She stood wondering whether she should ring the Hausmann's bell or the one of the pension when some one passing saw the white figure standing there and halted, then passed on, but presently returned. Nan shrank into the shadow of the big door. Suppose the young man should speak to her, for a young man she could see it was from the single swift glance she gave. What could he think of a girl alone in the street after ten o'clock?

Suddenly the Lohengrin vision faded and she was only Nan Corner in a strange city in a foreign land trying to get into her boarding-house. She pressed the electric button under the name of the pension, and again began to search in her bag for the keys, turning toward the light as she did so, the better to see.

The young man who was standing a few paces off suddenly came forward. "Nan, Nan Corner," he exclaimed. "What are you doing wandering about Munich alone?"

A friendly voice and a solicitous one. Nan looked up. "Dr. Paul," she cried, "of all people. Oh, I am so glad to see you." She explained the situation, ending with: "I know the keys must be somewhere, but they are not in my bag." Again she searched nervously.

"Let me hold your bag," said Dr. Paul. "And you look in your pocket, if you have any."

Nan gave a little laugh, and put her hand in her coat pocket but the keys were not there. Suddenly her hand went up to the chain around her neck and then down to her belt. "I remember," she said, a little abashed, "I took the keys from the bag and put them on the chain so as to be sure not to lose them, and I was so perfectly carried away by the music I forgot I had done it. Here they are, Dr. Paul. I am glad I didn't ring again for evidently the maids weren't roused by the first ring."

Dr. Paul turned the key in the lock and they stepped inside, the great door closing with a clang after them. All was dark and silent.

"Goodness!" cried Nan, "and they said they would have a light for me. Imagine coming home at ten o'clock at night anywhere in America and finding it like this."

"They certainly drive their thrift beyond the point of necessity, it seems to me. I have some matches in my pocket; I will strike a light and we will look for the stairs."

"We only came to the pension to-day and that is why I don't remember exactly in the dark," said Nan. "How long have you been here, Dr. Paul?"

"I came to town yesterday. My pension is a block further on. I am with a German family whom some friends recommended to me, and I think I shall be very comfortable. They speak North German, which is an advantage. I was going to look you all up to-morrow. Your Aunt Sarah told me I should probably find you here."

"And shall you stay long?"

"Several months. I am here for some special courses, and for hospital work."

"Then we shall see you often."

"You can count on that. Here are the stairs and I see a glimmer of light on the next floor. We'll follow it up and probably will find your candle."

They stumbled up the winding stairs which grew lighter as they mounted. At the top they found a night lamp on a table and a row of candles set in line. Each candlestick bore a slip of paper. The pair examined these gravely. "Zimmer ten, Pension Bauer," read Nan. "I suppose that must be mine. Ours is the next flight up. We are on the second floor, or what they call second over here; we would say third."

"I'll go up with you to keep off the bugaboos," said the doctor taking the lighted candle from her hand and following her up.

At the head of the stairs Nan turned. "How will you get out?" she asked. "I am sure the front door shut with a spring lock. I will go back with you."

"Then I'll have to see you to your door again."

"And we might keep that up indefinitely." They both laughed softly.

"Give me your key," said the doctor, "and I'll let myself out. I will bring it to you in the morning. You will not want it till then?"