genuine boys. We had no lack of playmates of both sexes, and with them
we certainly talked and shouted no French, but sturdy Berlin German.

In winter, too, we were permitted to enjoy ourselves out of doors, and
few boys made handsomer snow-men than those our worthy Kurschner--always
with the order in his buttonhole--helped us build in Thiergartenstrasse.

In the house we were obliged to behave courteously, and when I recall the
appearance of things there I become vividly aware that no series of years
witnessed more decisive changes in every department of life in Germany
than those of my boyhood. The furnishing of the rooms differed little
from that of the present day, except that the chairs and tables were
somewhat more angular and the cushions less comfortable. Instead of the
little knobs of the electric bells, a so-called "bell-rope," about the
width of one's hand, provided with a brass or metal handle, hung beside
the doors.

The first introduction of gas into the city was made by an English
company about ten years before my birth; but how many oil lamps I still
saw burning, and in my school days the manufacturing city of Kottbus,
which at that time contained about ten thousand inhabitants, was lighted
by them! In my childhood gas was not used in the houses and theatres of
Berlin, and kerosene had not found its way to Germany. The rooms were
lighted by oil lamps and candles, while the servants burned tallow-dips.
The latter were also used in our nursery, and during the years which I
spent at school in Keilhau all our studying was done by them.

Matches were not known. I still remember the tinder box in the kitchen,
the steel, the flint, and the threads dipped in sulphur. The sparks made
by striking fell on the tinder and caught it on fire here and there.