s of our "suite" sellers. Her mother,
however, probably did without any kind of toilet table or glass in
her wardrobe. Twenty years ago you occasionally saw such things in the
houses of rich people, but they were quite unusual. A small hanging
glass behind the washstand was considered enough for any _ordentliche
Frau_. Nowadays in rare cases the _ordentliche Frau_ actually has
silver brushes and powder pots and trinket boxes. But as a rule she
still does without such things; she brushes her beautiful hair with an
ivory or a wooden brush, and leaves paint and powder to ladies who are
presumably not _ordentlich_. At one time narrow brass or iron
bedsteads were introduced from England, and were used a great deal in
Germany. I remember seeing one all forlorn in a vast magnificent
palace bedroom where a fourposter hung with brocade or tapestry would
have looked more at home. But the real old-fashioned bedstead, still
much liked and formerly seen everywhere was always of wood, single and
with deep sides to hold the heavy box mattress. In Mariana Starcke's
_Travels in Europe_, published in 1833, she says of an inn in Villach,
"tall people cannot sleep comfortably here or in any part of Germany;
the beds, which are very narrow, being placed in wooden frames or
boxes, so short that any person who happened to be above five feet
high must absolutely sit up all night supported by pillows; and this,
in fact, is the way in which the Germans sleep."

I think this is a statement that will be as surprising to any German
who reads it as the statements made by Germans about England have
often been to me. It is true, however, that tall people do find the
old-fashioned German bedsteads short; and it is true that the big
square downy pillows are supported by a wedge-shaped bolster called a
_Keilkissen_. But the _Plumeau_ is what the German loves, and the
Briton hates above all things: the mountain of down or feathers that
tumbles off on cold nights and stays on on hot ones. You hate it all
the year round, because in winter it is too short and in summer it is
an oppression. Sometimes the sheet is buttoned to it, and then though
you are a traveller you are less than ever content. At the best you
never succumb to its attractions. Every spring the good German
housewife takes her maid and her _Plumeaux_ to a cleaner and sits
there while the feathers are purified by machinery and returned to
their bags. In this way she makes sure of getting back h