oesn't expect of a cow.

I suppose I ought to have pitied the poor animal; but I just didn't. I
was out for enjoyment. And I just enjoyed myself. It is so pleasant to
be drawn along in front of the spectacular towns with the peaked
castles and the many double spires. In the sunlight gleams come from
the city--gleams from the glass of windows; from the gilt signs of
apothecaries; from the ensigns of the student corps high up in the
mountains; from the helmets of the funny little soldiers moving their
stiff little legs in white linen trousers. And it was pleasant to get
out in the great big spectacular Prussian station with the hammered
bronze ornaments and the paintings of peasants and flowers and cows;
and to hear Florence bargain energetically with the driver of an ancient
droschka drawn by two lean horses. Of course, I spoke German much more
correctly than Florence, though I never could rid myself quite of the
accent of the Pennsylvania Duitsch of my childhood. Anyhow, we were
drawn in a sort of triumph, for five marks without any trinkgeld, right
up to the castle. And we were taken through the museum and saw the
fire-backs, the old glass, the old swords and the antique contraptions.
And we went up winding corkscrew staircases and through the Rittersaal,
the great painted hall where the Reformer and his friends met for the
first time under the protection of the gentleman that had three wives at
once and formed an alliance with the gentleman that had six wives, one
after the other (I'm not really interested in these facts but they have
a bearing on my story). And we went through chapels, and music rooms,
right up immensely high in the air to a large old chamber, full of
presses, with heavily-shuttered windows all round. And Florence became
positively electric. She told the tired, bored custodian what shutters
to open; so that the bright sunlight streamed in palpable shafts into
the dim old chamber. She explained that this was Luther's bedroom and
that just where the sunlight fell had stood his bed. As a matter of
fact, I believe that she was wrong and that Luther only stopped, as it
were, for lunch, in order to evade pursuit. But, no doubt, it would have
been his bedroom if he could have been persuaded to stop the night. And
then, in spite of the protest of the custodian, she threw open another
shutter and came tripping back to a large glass case.

"And there," she exclaimed with an accent of gaiety, of triumph, and of