The Women
Who, In The Penny 'bus (For, In Her Own Country, The Lady Of The New
School Is Wonderfully
Economical and business-like), spreads herself
out over the seat, and, looking indignant when a tired little
milliner gets in,
Would leave the poor girl standing with her bundle
for an hour, rather than make room for her - the women who write to
the papers to complain that chivalry is dead!
B., who has been looking over my shoulder while I have been writing
the foregoing, after the manner of a Family Herald story-teller's
wife in the last chapter (fancy a man having to write the story of
his early life and adventures with his wife looking over his
shoulder all the time! no wonder the tales lack incident), says that
I have been living too much on sauerkraut and white wine; but I
reply that if anything has tended to interfere for a space with the
deep-seated love and admiration that, as a rule, I entertain for all
man and woman-kind, it is his churches and picture-galleries.
We have seen enough churches and pictures since our return to Munich
to last me for a very long while. I shall not go to church, when I
get home again, more than twice a Sunday, for months to come.
The inhabitants of Munich boast that their Cathedral is the ugliest
in Europe; and, judging from appearances, I am inclined to think
that the claim must be admitted.
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