An evening spent in Heidelberg Inn is one replete with character study
that cannot be excelled anywhere in San Francisco--and this means that
everybody there is worth while as a study, from the little, bald-headed
waiter, Heme, and the big, imposing waiter, August, to the "Herr Doctor"
who comes to forget the serious surgical case that has been worrying him
at the hospital. Here you do not find obtrusive waiters brushing
imaginary crumbs from your chair with obsequious hand, nor over zealous
stewards solicitous of your food's quality. It is all perfect because it
is made perfect by good management. Here are German families, from
Grossfader and Grossmutter, down to the newest grandchild, sitting and
enjoying their beer and listening to such music as can be heard nowhere
else in San Francisco, as they eat their sandwiches of limburger, or
more dainty dishes according to their tastes.

One can almost imagine himself in one of the famous rathskellers of Old
Heidelberg--not at the Schloss, of course, for here you cannot look
down on the Weiser as it flows beneath the windows of the great wine
stube on the hill. But you have the real atmosphere, and this is
enhanced by the mottoes in decoration and the flagons, stems and plaques
that adorn the pillars as well as typical German environment.

It is when the martial strains of "De Wacht am Rhein" are heard from the
orchestra, which of itself is an institution, that the true camaraderie
of the place is appreciated, for then guests, waiters, barkeepers, and
even the eagle-eyed gray-haired manager, join in the swelling chorus,
and you can well understand why German soldiers are inspired to march to
victory when they hear these stirring chords.

But there is other music--sometimes neither inspiring nor beautiful
when heard in a German rathskeller--the music of rag time. If there is