. . .
14
After dinner, the experiments begin again, for my host is
untiring. First of all, pointing to me, he asks Muhamed if he
remembers what his uncle's name is. The horse raps out an H.
Krall is astonished and utters fatherly reprimands:
"Come, take care! You know it's not an H."
The horse raps out an E. Krall becomes a little impatient: he
threatens, he implores, he promises in turn, carrots and the
direst punishments, such as sending for Albert, the groom, who,
on special occasions, recalls idle and inattentive pupils to a
sense of duty and decorum, for Krall himself never chastises his
horses, lest he should lose their friendship or their confidence.
So he continues his reproaches:
"Come now, are you going to be more careful and not rap out your
letters anyhow?"
Muhamed obstinately goes his own way and strikes an R. Then
Krall's open face lights up:
"He's right," he says. "You understand: H E R, standing for Herr.
He wanted to give you the title to which every man wearing a top
hat or a bowler has the right. He does it only very rarely and I
had forgotten all about it. He probably heard me call you Herr
Maeterlinck and wanted to get it perfectly. This special
politeness and this excess of zeal augur a particularly good
lesson. You've done very well, Mohammed, my child; you've done
very well and I beg your pardon.
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