A TRAMP ABROAD By Mark Twain

he falls some degrees in the estimation of his fellows;

his corps are ashamed of him: they call him “hare foot,”

which is the German equivalent for chicken-hearted.

CHAPTER VII

[How Bismark Fought]

In addition to the corps laws, there are some corps

usages which have the force of laws.

Perhaps the president of a corps notices that one of the

membership who is no longer an exempt–that is a freshman–

has remained a sophomore some little time without volunteering

to fight; some day, the president, instead of calling

for volunteers, will APPOINT this sophomore to measure

swords with a student of another corps; he is free

to decline–everybody says so–there is no compulsion.

This is all true–but I have not heard of any student

who DID decline; to decline and still remain in the corps

would make him unpleasantly conspicuous, and properly so,

since he knew, when he joined, that his main business,

as a member, would be to fight. No, there is no law

against declining–except the law of custom, which is

confessedly stronger than written law, everywhere.

The ten men whose duels I had witnessed did not go away

when their hurts were dressed, as I had supposed they would,

but came back, one after another, as soon as they were free

of the surgeon, and mingled with the assemblage in the

dueling-room. The white-cap student who won the second

fight witnessed the remaining three, and talked with us

during the intermissions. He could not talk very well,

because his opponent’s sword had cut his under-lip in two,

and then the surgeon had sewed it together and overlaid it

with a profusion of white plaster patches; neither could

he eat easily, still he contrived to accomplish a slow

and troublesome luncheon while the last duel was preparing.

The man who was the worst hurt of all played chess

while waiting to see this engagement. A good part of

his face was covered with patches and bandages, and all

the rest of his head was covered and concealed by them.

It is said that the student likes to appear on the street

and in other public places in this kind of array,

and that this predilection often keeps him out when

exposure to rain or sun is a positive danger for him.

Newly bandaged students are a very common spectacle

in the public gardens of Heidelberg. It is also said

that the student is glad to get wounds in the face,

because the scars they leave will show so well there;

and it is also said that these face wounds are so prized

that youths have even been known to pull them apart

from time to time and put red wine in them to make

them heal badly and leave as ugly a scar as possible.

It does not look reasonable, but it is roundly asserted

and maintained, nevertheless; I am sure of one thing–scars

are plenty enough in Germany, among the young men;

and very grim ones they are, too. They crisscross the face

in angry red welts, and are permanent and ineffaceable.

Some of these scars are of a very strange and dreadful aspect;

and the effect is striking when several such accent

the milder ones, which form a city map on a man’s face;

they suggest the “burned district” then. We had often

noticed that many of the students wore a colored silk

band or ribbon diagonally across their breasts.

It transpired that this signifies that the wearer has

fought three duels in which a decision was reached–duels

in which he either whipped or was whipped–for drawn

battles do not count. [1] After a student has received

his ribbon, he is “free”; he can cease from fighting,

without reproach–except some one insult him; his president

cannot appoint him to fight; he can volunteer if he

wants to, or remain quiescent if he prefers to do so.

Statistics show that he does NOT prefer to remain quiescent.

They show that the duel has a singular fascination about

it somewhere, for these free men, so far from resting upon

the privilege of the badge, are always volunteering.

A corps student told me it was of record that Prince