A TRAMP ABROAD By Mark Twain

lit on the door and took a glance, the whole absurdity

of the contract that that first jay had tackled hit him

home and he fell over backward suffocating with laughter,

and the next jay took his place and done the same.

“Well, sir, they roosted around here on the housetop

and the trees for an hour, and guffawed over that thing

like human beings. It ain’t any use to tell me a bluejay

hasn’t got a sense of humor, because I know better.

And memory, too. They brought jays here from all over

the United States to look down that hole, every summer

for three years. Other birds, too. And they could all

see the point except an owl that come from Nova Scotia

to visit the Yo Semite, and he took this thing in on

his way back. He said he couldn’t see anything funny

in it. But then he was a good deal disappointed about

Yo Semite, too.”

CHAPTER IV

Student Life

[The Laborious Beer King]

The summer semester was in full tide; consequently the

most frequent figure in and about Heidelberg was

the student. Most of the students were Germans,

of course, but the representatives of foreign lands

were very numerous. They hailed from every corner

of the globe–for instruction is cheap in Heidelberg,

and so is living, too. The Anglo-American Club,

composed of British and American students, had twenty-five

members, and there was still much material left to draw from.

Nine-tenths of the Heidelberg students wore no badge

or uniform; the other tenth wore caps of various colors,

and belonged to social organizations called “corps.” There

were five corps, each with a color of its own; there were

white caps, blue caps, and red, yellow, and green ones.

The famous duel-fighting is confined to the “corps” boys.

The “KNEIP” seems to be a specialty of theirs, too.

Kneips are held, now and then, to celebrate great occasions,

like the election of a beer king, for instance.

The solemnity is simple; the five corps assemble at night,

and at a signal they all fall loading themselves with beer,

out of pint-mugs, as fast as possible, and each man keeps

his own count–usually by laying aside a lucifer match

for each mud he empties. The election is soon decided.

When the candidates can hold no more, a count is instituted

and the one who has drank the greatest number of pints is

proclaimed king. I was told that the last beer king elected

by the corps–or by his own capabilities–emptied his mug

seventy-five times. No stomach could hold all that quantity

at one time, of course–but there are ways of frequently

creating a vacuum, which those who have been much at sea

will understand.

One sees so many students abroad at all hours, that he

presently begins to wonder if they ever have any

working-hours. Some of them have, some of them haven’t.

Each can choose for himself whether he will work or play;

for German university life is a very free life;

it seems to have no restraints. The student does not live

in the college buildings, but hires his own lodgings,

in any locality he prefers, and he takes his meals when

and where he pleases. He goes to bed when it suits him,

and does not get up at all unless he wants to.

He is not entered at the university for any particular

length of time; so he is likely to change about.

He passes no examinations upon entering college.

He merely pays a trifling fee of five or ten dollars,

receives a card entitling him to the privileges of

the university, and that is the end of it. He is now ready

for business–or play, as he shall prefer. If he elects

to work, he finds a large list of lectures to choose from.

He selects the subjects which he will study, and enters

his name for these studies; but he can skip attendance.

The result of this system is, that lecture-courses upon

specialties of an unusual nature are often delivered

to very slim audiences, while those upon more practical

and every-day matters of education are delivered to very

large ones. I heard of one case where, day after day,