At the Kaiser's palace we witnessed all these sights, but we did
not run across any bathrooms or any bathtubs. However, we were
in the public end of the establishment and I regard it as probable
that in the other wing, where the Kaiser lives when at home, there
are plenty of bathrooms. I did not investigate personally. The
Kaiser was out at Potsdam and I did not care to call in his absence.
Bathrooms are plentiful at the hotel where we stopped at Berlin.
I had rather hoped to find the bedroom equipped with an old-fashioned
German feather bed. I had heard that one scaled the side of a
German bed on a stepladder and then fell headlong into its smothering
folds like a gallant fireman invading a burning rag warehouse; but
this hotel happened to be the best hotel that I ever saw outside
the United States. It had been built and it was managed on American
lines, plus German domestic service--which made an incomparable
combination--and it was furnished with modern beds and provided
with modern bathrooms.
Probably as a delicate compliment to the Kaiser, the bathtowels
were starched until the fringes at the ends bristled up stiffly
a-curl, like the ends of His Imperial Majesty's equally imperial
mustache. Just once--and once only--I made the mistake of rubbing
myself with one of those towels just as it was. I should have
softened it first by a hackling process, as we used to hackle the
hemp in Kentucky; but I did not.
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