wed by crowds of eager sightseers. Keeping time with the
music we march with them past the great Royal Library to where Frederick
the Great looks down from his tall bronze horse on the children of
to-day. On the one side is the Opera House, on the other is the
University, with its ten thousand students, and farther on the Arsenal,
with its large historical collections of engines of war. We cross over
the "Schlossbruecke" (Palace Bridge), which throws its arch over the
River Spree, and follow the parade into the "Lustgarten" (Pleasure
Garden). The band halts at the foot of the statue of Frederick William
III. and the people crowd round to listen, for now one piece is played
after another. Thus the good citizens of Berlin are entertained daily.
There are several noteworthy buildings round the Lustgarten, among them
many art museums and picture galleries, as well as the Cathedral and the
Royal Palace (Plate I.). It looks very grand, this palace, though it
does not stand, as it should, in the middle of a great open space, but
is hemmed in by the streets around it.
Perhaps it would interest you to hear about a ball at the Imperial Court
of Germany. At the stroke of nine our carriage drives in under the
archway of the Palace. The carpeted staircases are lined by
"Beef-eaters," in old-fashioned uniforms, as motionless as if they were
cast in wax. They do not turn even their eyes as the guests pass, much
less their heads. Now we are up in the state rooms, and move slowly
over the brightly polished floor through a suite of brilliant apartments
glittering with electric light. Pictures of the kings of Prussia stand
out against the gilt leather tapestry. At last we reach the great
throne-room, which takes its name from the black eagles on the ceiling.
[Illustration: PLATE I. BERLIN.
On the right is the Royal Palace, on the left the Cathedral, with the
Lustgarten in front. In the foreground is the River Spree.]
What a varied scene awaits us here! Great ladies in costly dresses
adorned with precious stones of great value, diamonds flashing and
sparkling wherever we look, generals and admirals in full dress, high
officials, ambassadors from foreign lands, including those of China and
Japan. Here comes a great man to whom all bow; it is the Imperial
Chancellor.
Chamberlains now request the guests to range themselves along the walls
of the throne-room. A herald enters and strikes his silver staff against
the floor, calling o
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