A GERMAN WATERING PLACE OUT OF SEASON.

Mataura Ensign, Volume 10, Issue 754, 9 March 1888, Page 2

A GERMAN WATERING PLACE OUT OF SEASON.

Towards morning, though still before it was light, I think I must have dozed ; but I was suddenly awoke by the church bell, which burst into a paroxysm of clanging and roaring that even Jennie started up, with a jump that shut her up in her umbrella. For ten minutes that bell continued. We thoughi the village was on fire, and threiv back our shutters to see. There was no sign of any excitement, and the rain was falling in such a deluge that no fire could have lived, however well started. We retired again, and Jennie went to sleep. Of course I don't grudge Jennie her sleep, but I can't help feeling a little irritated sometimes, when I am tossing and hope Icssly wakeful, at the way that girl remains in a sort of stupor ; it seems so unsympathetic \ and when she snores it is more than I can bear. It was half an hour before my heart stopped beating and my head vibrating from that bell, and then I became aware that a hammering hud begun ; everyone knows wh it that means. It was impossible to rest, so I gave it up and dressed myself. On investigation the hammering proved to proceed from the ivory stall, which was being packed up, all the things being put in cases, aud a man nailing up perinauent boards in front. Then I suddenly realised the sad fact that tne bazaars were also going; instead of oar bright and lively outlook we should soon be face to faoe with a row of siglittas ahuiters. Anyhow, we must try and muve our room \ any outlook would be

better than that ; and the back window would look on to the Curgarten. So we sent for Frau Zimmerman, our hostess, and asked her what she could do for us. She said she could certainly give us rooms at the other side but she feared we would find them cold, as there were no stoves or means of warming the back rooms, the houses being only built for the summer; J^ey^'were also taking advantage of the' season being over to have a new dinihg-room built at the back and "if Madame did not like the noise it might be amioving, a3 the work men began at five." It ' was most disappointing, for it seemed" we had no choice but to stay where we were. Jennie then complained of the church bell. " Ah, FrauleinJthat is to wake the village up.visitors donotlikeit,soit is stopped in the season, but from October to April it is rung every morning before five. Yes, it is a good thing to wake up the village." So there is no hope ; I must be called before five whether I will or not, for it's an old institution, like a perverted curfew. The rain stopped and the sun came out, so we were enabled to go out while our room was being done. That by-the-by, is another disadvantage of pension life ; one has, or rather one prefers, to go out while one's room is being done, so on a wet day when the first fine moment arrives, every bell rings at the same time, and each occupant cries " Marie, come and do my room;" and as Marie can't do all at once, it is apfcto make ill feeling. When we turned into the street that morning it presented a most extraordinary appear ance. It was a sort of ope^iir hospital. On every balcony were beds, before every open window was a bed, all down the side of the street were beds. " What is the matter, Jennie ? Is Bedlam loose, or has the plague broken out ?" A girl turned out of the next house, and, going up to one of the beds, began to beat it violently with a sort of handscreen of plaited cane she had brought with her. Jennie asked her what it all meant. " After the season, we always air the beds before shutting up the houses." For nearly a week that beating continued ; every bed, chair, sofa, and carpet was bastinadoed. Once it rained for an hour, and then, only then, did the noise cease. Everything was covered or dragged into the houses, and some of the furniture, I am glad to say, had suffered enough, and did not appear again. By the end of the first week in October the shops were closed. The band had long stopped, the omnibuses ceksed to be a' communication jgqtween us and Mullstock. and a great depression crept over Tannenhohen. The Curgarten alone was gay ; I could never have imagined such brilliant effects of colour. The trees were every shade of green, brown, red, and yellow ; and the Virginia creeper, which creeps over everything in Tanneuhohen, and even grows wild, was absolutely crimson and gold ; but there was no one to admire it save us two. — From " A Health-Resort out of the Season," in the Cornhill Magazine.