for it. Personally, I can neither praise it nor condemn it. A long
series of disappointments has disheartened me; added to which a permanent
atmosphere of paraffin, however faint, is apt to cause remark, especially
in the case of a married man. Now, I never try even the sample.

I gave my bottle to George. He asked for it to send to a man he knew in
Leeds. I learnt later that Harris had given him his bottle also, to send
to the same man.

A suggestion of onions has clung to this tour since we left Prague.
George has noticed it himself. He attributes it to the prevalence of
garlic in European cooking.

It was in Prague that Harris and I did a kind and friendly thing to
George. We had noticed for some time past that George was getting too
fond of Pilsener beer. This German beer is an insidious drink,
especially in hot weather; but it does not do to imbibe too freely of it.
It does not get into your head, but after a time it spoils your waist. I
always say to myself on entering Germany:

"Now, I will drink no German beer. The white wine of the country, with a
little soda-water; perhaps occasionally a glass of Ems or potash. But
beer, never--or, at all events, hardly ever."

It is a good and useful resolution, which I recommend to all travellers.
I only wish I could keep to it myself. George, although I urged him,
refused to bind himself by any such hard and fast limit. He said that in
moderation German beer was good.

"One glass in the morning," said George, "one in the evening, or even
two. That will do no harm to anyone."

Maybe he was right. It was his half-dozen glasses that troubled Harris
and myself.

"We ought to do something to stop it," said Harris; "it is becoming
serious."

"It's hereditary, so he has explained to me," I answered. "It seems his
family have always been thirsty."

"There is Apollinaris water," replied Harris, "which, I believe, with a
little lemon squeezed into it, is practically harmless. What I am
thinking about is his figure. He will lose all his natural elegance."

We talked the matter over, and, Providence aiding us, we fixed upon a
plan. For the ornamentation of the town a new statue had just been cast.
I forget of whom it was a statue. I only remember that in the essentials
it was the usual sort of street statue, representing the usual sort of
gentleman, with the usual stiff neck, riding the usual sort of horse--the
horse that always walks on its hind legs,