BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 57 another ugly man, the head of the Prussian author and king, Friedrich von Hohenzollern. "I can understand, Herr Rector," he went on, "why you have placed the great king's antithesis facing hirn. On the one side the man of spirit in all his gran- deur, on the other the creature of intellect in all his paltriness. The dignity of the German is emphasized by the contrast. But allow me to confess frankly, Herr Rector, that 1 should find it disagreeable to have that grinning French rascal before my eyes all day long." Rector Franccis continued to smile, doing his best to be polite. He found it difficult to make contact with the new teacher. "I believe it is time," he said, "for me to in- troduce you to your class," The boys stood up as the two gentlemen entered. Rector Franccis spoke a few sentences. He spoke more of the dead Dr, Heinzius than of Dr. Vogelsang. He gave a sigh of relief when he had closed the door between himself and the new master. Dr. Vogelsang had stood stiffiy erect during the Rector's speech, with his ehest thrown out and his pale blue eyes star- ing straight before hirn. He now sat down, srniled, and did his best to be genial. "Well, boys," he said, "now we're going to see how we shall get on with one another. Show me what you know." Most of the boys had disliked the new teacher at first sight. The high collar, the affected air of srnartness, did not impress thern. Provincial, from the darkest corner of the prov- inces at that, they had said to themselves. But his first words were not clumsy ones, that was not a bad tone to take with the Lower Sixth. It was a lucky chance for Vogelsang that they happened to be reading just then "Arrninius's Fight," by Grabbe, a piece by a semi-classic poet of the first half of the nineteenth century, crude, weak in ideas, but full of genuine passion, at times ex- tremely pieturesque. The battle fought by Arminius, the mag- nificent entry of the Germans into history, this first great vic-

THE OPPERMANNS tory of the Germans over the Romans was a favourite theme of Bernd Vogelsang's. He compared the poems written about Arminius by Grabbe, Klopstock, and Kleist. He asked few questions himself, he gave his tongue free rein. He was 00 lover of subtleties, he did not care for shades of meaning as the dead Dr. Heinzius had, his object was to infect the boys with his own enthusiasm. He occasionally allowed them to put in a word. He assumed the tone of a comrade, wanted to find out at the start to what extent they were familiar with patriotic poetry. One of them mentioned Kleist's wild hymn, "Ger- mania to Her Children." "That's a magnificent poem," cried Vogelsang with enthusiasm. He knew the piece by heart and recited some of the powerful lines of insane hatred against the foreigner: "Every biding-place and meadow Colour with their bones ash-grey; Whom the fox and whom the raven Scorned, let them be fishes' prey; Choke the Rhine with their foul corpses, Let it-heaped with their dead bones- Change its foaming course and eircle The Palatinate's proud stones. 'Tis a frolie when the huntsman Finds the wild wolf's hidden lair. Strike him dead! The law of nations Questions not your reasons fair." Vogelsang recited the hate-verses with ecstasy. The scar which divided his right cheek turned red, hut the rest of his face re- mained as rigid as a mask, while the words issued from be- tween his high collar and his small, Haxen moustache. They had a particularly odd effect in his broad East Prussian accent. The entire man was a little ridiculous. But Berlin boys have a delicate ear for what is honest and what is put on. The boys of the Lower Sixth were weIl aware that the man who stood be-