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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Golossa-a-l," muttered Von Mendebach, as we went away hurriedly together. The next morning Carl sent an English-speaking student with a challenge to Andrew Smallie. I wrote a note to my compatriot, telling him that although it was not our habit in England, he would do well to accept the challenge or to leave Gottingen at once. Carl stood over me while I wrote the letter.
And in an obscure English watering-place there lives a queer little old maid churchy and prim who does charitable work, gives her opinion very freely concerning the administration of matters parochial, thinks the vicar very self-indulgent and idle and in her own heart has the abiding conviction that there are none on earth like the Roman clergy. "Golossa-a-l!" I heard him say.
Finally be took me to his house one evening to supper. "Father," he said in his loud, cheery way, "here is the Englishman a good friend of mine a great scholar golossa-a-l." The General held out his hand and Lisa bowed, prettily formal, with a quaint, prim smile which I can see still. I went to the house often as often, indeed, as I could.
"Golossa-a-l, these Englishmen! Are they not everywhere?" A moment later I was introduced to him, and he rose to shake hands a tall, fair, good-natured German student. Heavy if you will but clean withal, and of a cleanly mind. "Honour," he muttered politely. "It is not often we have an English student at Gottingen but perhaps we can teach you something eh?" And he broke into a boyish laugh.
He lay quite still while I quickly loosened his coat. Then suddenly his breath caught. "Golossa-a-l!" he muttered. His eyes glazed. He was dead. I looked up and saw Smallie walking quickly away alone. The Einjahriger was kneeling beside me. I have never seen or heard of Andrew Smallie since. I am a grey- haired man now. I have had work to do in every war of my day.
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