"Well _I_ know - they meant an asylum - an IDIOT asylum,
do you understand? So they DO think there's a pair of us,
after all. Now what do you think of yourself?"
"Well, I don't know. I didn't know I was doing any harm;
I didn't MEAN to do any harm. They were very nice people,
and they seemed to like me."
Harris made some rude remarks and left for his bedroom
- to break some furniture, he said. He was a singularly
irascible man; any little thing would disturb his temper.
I had been well scorched by the young woman, but no matter,
I took it out on Harris. One should always "get even"
in some way, else the sore place will go on hurting.
CHAPTER XXVI
[The Nest of the Cuckoo-clock]
The Hofkirche is celebrated for its organ concerts.
All summer long the tourists flock to that church about six
o'clock in the evening, and pay their franc, and listen
to the noise. They don't stay to hear all of it, but get up
and tramp out over the sounding stone floor, meeting late
comers who tramp in in a sounding and vigorous way.
This tramping back and forth is kept up nearly all the time,
and is accented by the continuous slamming of the door,
and the coughing and barking and sneezing of the crowd.
Meantime, the big organ is booming and crashing and
thundering away, doing its best to prove that it is
the biggest and best organ in Europe, and that a tight
little box of a church is the most favorable place
to average and appreciate its powers in.
