Then Herr Slossenn Boschen Got Up, And Went On Awful.
He swore at us in
German (which I should judge to be a singularly effective language for
that purpose), and he danced, and shook his fists, and called us all the
English he knew.
He said he had never been so insulted in all his life.
It appeared that the song was not a comic song at all. It was about a
young girl who lived in the Hartz Mountains, and who had given up her
life to save her lover's soul; and he died, and met her spirit in the
air; and then, in the last verse, he jilted her spirit, and went on with
another spirit - I'm not quite sure of the details, but it was something
very sad, I know. Herr Boschen said he had sung it once before the
German Emperor, and he (the German Emperor) had sobbed like a little
child. He (Herr Boschen) said it was generally acknowledged to be one of
the most tragic and pathetic songs in the German language.
It was a trying situation for us - very trying. There seemed to be no
answer. We looked around for the two young men who had done this thing,
but they had left the house in an unostentatious manner immediately after
the end of the song.
That was the end of that party. I never saw a party break up so quietly,
and with so little fuss. We never said good-night even to one another.
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