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Hamburg's citizens had to exhibit the fortitude of those of Rheims under another kind of bombardment: that of the silent guns of British Dreadnoughts far out of range. They were good Germans; they meant to play the game; but that once prosperous business man of past middle age, too old to serve, who had little to do but think, found it hard to keep step with the propagandist attitude of Berlin.

It was a story that never grew stale, and from the eagerness with which the Hamburg's crew listened to the oft-told tale, the physicians realised that even to those old sea-dogs the event was a miracle. None of them, in all the years they had been sailing the high seas, had ever fished up such booty.

He was a Harrow boy named Raphael Leon, a scion of a wealthy family. The boy had manifested a strange premature interest in Jewish literature and had often seen Gabriel Hamburg's name in learned foot-notes, and, discovering that he was in England, had just written to him.

Hamburg had replied; they had met that day for the first time and at the lad's own request the old scholar brought him on to this strange meeting. The boy grew to be Hamburg's one link with wealthy England, and though he rarely saw Leon again, the lad came in a shadowy way to take the place he had momentarily designed for Joseph Strelitski.

Strelitski seemed to expand under the sunshine of a congenial spirit; he answered Hamburg's sympathetic inquiries about his work without reluctance and even made some remarks on his own initiative. And as they spoke, an undercurrent of pensive thought was flowing in the old scholar's soul and his tones grew tenderer and tenderer.

He is somewhat of the Bielfeld type; a Merchant's Son, we observe, like Bielfeld; but a Venetian Merchant's, not a Hamburg's; and also of better natural stuff than Bielfeld. Concentrated himself upon his task with more seriousness, and made a higher thing of it than Bielfeld; though, after all, it was the same task the two had.

And now he also recognised the other members of the noisy group. There were Arthur Stoss and his valet, Bulke, in inconspicuous black livery, sitting a little off from the others. There were Doctor Wilhelm, and the painter Jacob Fleischmann, and Wendler, the Hamburg's engineer, and two sailors from the Roland, wearing new suits and caps.

Brunswick Its beauty High level of culture The Brunswick Theatre Its excellence Gas vs. electricity Primitive theatre toilets Operatic stars in private life Some operas unknown in London Dramatic incidents in them Levasseur's parody of "Robert" Some curious details about operas Two fiery old Pan-Germans Influence of the teaching profession on modern Germany The "French and English Clubs" A meeting of the "English Club" Some reflections about English reluctance to learn foreign tongues Mental attitude of non-Prussians in 1875 Concerning various beers A German sportsman The silent, quinine-loving youth The Harz Mountains A "Kettle-drive" for hares Dialects of German The odious "Kaffee-Klatsch" Universal gossip Hamburg's overpowering hospitality Hamburg's attitude towards Britain The city itself Trip to British Heligoland The island Some peculiarities Migrating birds Sir Fitzhardinge Maxse Lady Maxse The Heligoland Theatre Winter in Heligoland.