versation, but he proved to be
untalkative; so I busied myself with the latest issue of the Paris
_L'Illustration_. I never glanced in the direction of the officer but
what I found him staring intently at me. This irritated me. The
incident was repeated so many times that I said:

"I trust Herr will remember me in the days to come."

"Eh?" somewhat startled, I thought.

"I observed that you will possibly remember me in the days to come.
Or, perhaps I resemble some one you know."

"Not in the least," was the haughty retort.

I shrugged and relit my pipe. The tobacco I had purchased in Paris,
and it was of the customary vileness. Perhaps I could smoke out Mein
Herr. But the task resulted in a boomerang. He drew out a huge china
pipe and began smoking tobacco which was even viler than mine, if that
could be possible. Soon I let down the window.

"Does the smoke disturb Herr?" he asked, puffing forth great clouds of
smoke. There was a shade of raillery in his tones.

"It would not," I answered, "if it came from tobacco."

He subsided.

Whenever there was a stop of any length I stepped out and walked the
platform. The officer invariably followed my example. I pondered over
this each time I re-entered the carriage. At last my irritation turned
into wrath.

"Are you aware that your actions are very annoying?"

"How, sir?" proudly.

"You stare me out of countenance, you refrain from entering into
conversation, and by the way you follow me in and out of the carriage,
one would say that you were watching me. All this is not common
politeness."

"Herr jests," he replied with a forced smile. "If I desire not to
converse, that is my business. As for getting in and out of the
carriage, have I no rights as a passenger?"

It was I who subsided. A minute passed.

"But why do you stare at me?" I asked.

"I do not stare at you, I have no paper and tried to read yours at a
distance. I am willing to apologize for that."

"Oh, that is different," I said. I tossed the paper to him. "You are
welcome to the paper."

I covertly watched him as he tried to read the French. By and by he
passed the paper back.

"I am not a very good French scholar, and the French are tiresome."

"They would not have been if they had had a General who thought more of
fighting than of wearing pretty clothes."

"Oh, it would not have mattered," confidently.

"Prussia was once humbled by a Frenchman." I was irritating hi