at the Pfalzhof. It was now nearly two months since I had left America,
and since that time, in all my wanderings, I had met no people that
resembled the Americans. Even in Germany had I not yet seen any one whose
physiognomy spoke of near kinship to any that I knew on the other side of
the Atlantic. But at



Frankenthal


I was introduced to a new class of experiences which were as unexpected as
they were pleasant. If I had not here experienced it, I could never have
anticipated the feelings of a lonely wanderer who, when thousands of miles
away from home, was addressed in tones so like unto the voices of those he
loved to hear at home, that he felt as if he was all the time hearing
familiar voices in every direction.

At Worms my attention had already been arrested by social phases that
reminded me of America, but at Frankenthal I met an officer at the
station, who, upon being asked where the peculiar Palatinate dialect was
spoken, not only mentioned to me the places, but also gave me a list of
Pfälzish words that are peculiar to them, most of which are purely
Pennsylvania German both in their pronunciation and their meanings. A
young girl at the hotel and her brother not only used language similar to
ours, but betrayed their kinship in various other ways. I spent about a
week in Mannheim, Neustadt, Speyer and the surrounding country, during
which time I devoted all my attention to the question of our common
ancestry. That those people are cousins to many of our Pennsylvania
Germans can easily be proved in a variety of ways, even when we throw