HIGH GERMAN

He scents wine He has got a shot He is shot through He has got a blow He has got a touch He has got a Jesuit He has got too much He is tipsy He is foggy He has got a saintish look He has a dizziness He is inspired He is full He takes a Bauer for an earth-bear His head is heavy He has dim eyes He is not right in the upper story He has gla.s.s eyes He rocks He has something in the roof He is full and furious He has his load He has been in a good spot He has something in his head He has enough He has got a bag-wig He has drunk a gla.s.s too much He has pept into the gla.s.s too deep He is illuminated He staggers His tongue is too heavy He can't lift his tongue any more He floats He makes crosses He is sated He saw wooden cans in heaven He is up to his throat full He has made himself a beard He goes in a flourish He is well blessed He is loaded awry He has made himself black His house is haunted He tacks about He can't keep his legs He is funny He is well drunk He has been present He is ready He is off He is away He is happy He takes the sky a ba.s.s viol He sees the letters double He is as sick as heaven-hail He is dull and full He has followed his own fancy He is _a tout_ He has daubed himself He has a rattle He has a ditto He has round feet He has leaned too far over He is star-blind thick He yearns after the brandy bottle He has lamed his tongue He is as full as a bagpipe He is lost He is covered He sees two suns He is thick as poodle-hail He goes as if all houses were his He is totally away He sails with full sails He leans against a shutter He is poodle thick He has his tally He has his part He can't spit over his beard He makes a _pas frise_ He is thick He has had too much of a good thing He has been in his cups He has something in the top He is cat thick He has washed himself He has drammed himself He has done it pretty well He has taken good care of himself He has a giddiness He can scarcely stammer He has Moses' tongue He is led about He is under the table He takes a church-spire for a toothpick He has armed himself with a sword He has sprinkled his nose He has endowed himself They have buried him He is hail-blind full He stares like a stuck calf He looks like a duck in thunder He is be-kneipt He is split He doesn't come home alone He brings Geiselbrecht with him He is a drunken swine He falls off He is in dulci jubilo He has chopped beyond the line He is tufted He cannot walk in the line

In the Low German are some fifty other phrases on the same subject.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE COMMERS.

And there is grandfather, who, letters still extant, Though now somewhat ancient, give sure text on't.

In many a Commers and Burschen-feast, As sword-bearing Praeses his fame increased.

_Preface to the Renommist_.

Our discourse shall now be of a beautiful feast of the Students--the Commers. We describe the Commers of the present day; since in earlier times this festival bore another shape, and was disfigured by rude customs, so that we may justly say of the Commers, that it has not, like most other feasts, degenerated in the course of years, but has already improved itself. We will hereafter speak of these customs of an earlier time, and of some which in many places still remain, but which do not necessarily belong to the Commers. We understand by a Commers, as it now exists, a festive a.s.sembly, which consecrates itself by a higher tone and signification by the singing of "The Landsfather."

The Commers is divided into the general and the special. In the former, the a.s.sembled Ch.o.r.es, and all other students who wish it, take part. In describing the const.i.tution of a Ch.o.r.e, we have already spoken of these. In the special Commers, only a particular Ch.o.r.e, with all those that are attached to it, and such other members of other friendly Ch.o.r.es as are invited, take part. The Commerses are distinguished into Entrance and Farewell Commerses, with which the Semesters open and close. The Fox-ride generally takes place at the Entrance-Commers. Each particular Ch.o.r.e, moreover, has its Foundation-Commers, on which it celebrates the anniversary of its establishment. Many Ch.o.r.es also are accustomed to hold a Commers in honour of the birthday of their Land Prince.

First, of the General Commers. To this, a.s.semble themselves all who take part in it, in a s.p.a.cious room, either in the city or in its immediate neighbourhood.

Those students who are not themselves in any Ch.o.r.e, attach themselves to one or other of them, and each Ch.o.r.e has its particular table; and two presidents sit at the head of each table. The chief president is the Senior of that Ch.o.r.e which has the secretaryship.

When the Commers shall begin, the presidents cry "ad loca!" which command every one must be careful to obey, if he would avoid the consequence of a beer penalty. In these Commerses, the rule is to drink beer, and this is called a Commers in beer. The chief president has now to give out the songs which shall be sung, and he also dictates the particular verses. Certain songs are on these occasions brought forward from time immemorial, as "Heidelberg, live thou! hurrah hoch!" or the following, at a Farewell Commers.

THE TRAVEL SONG.

Away! we have drunk it, the sparkling wine, Adieu, now, ye loved ones, to wander is mine.

Adieu, now ye mountains, thou fatherly home, For mightily drives me the pa.s.sion to roam.

For mightily drives me the pa.s.sion to roam.

The sun in the heaven won't pause without change, But speeds on through lands and o'er oceans to range; The wave will not cling to the same lonesome strand; The storms, they go roaring with might through the land.

--(The land).

With clouds, fast careering, the bird floats along, And sings in the far-land its home-loving song; Through forest and field so the Bursche is hurl'd, To be, like his mother, the wandering world.

--(The world).

There greet him the birds which beyond seas he knew; From fields of his home-scenes 'tis here that they flew.

The sweet flowers around him familiarly grow, In airs from his country, far wafted, they blow.

--(They blow).

The birds! O well know they his father's own towers; For garlands of love once he planted those flowers.

And love, it still follows, still gives him the hand, And makes him a home in that furthermost land.

--(That land).

Before each president lies a drawn sword, with which, as signal of command, he strikes upon the table. It is forbidden to every one, on pain of a beer-penalty, to interrupt the song in any manner whatever.

So now the singing and drinking go forward in regular course. At a later hour a supper is eaten, and the Commers is closed by the singing of "The Landsfather," after which there is no more singing, but it immediately becomes free to every one to stay and kneip on as long as he likes.

When "The Landsfather" is to begin, the presidents command "ad loca!"

Every one must quietly take his seat, and it is allowed to no one, as otherwise commonly happens at kneipings, to take off his coat, and sit in his shirt-sleeves. All must be conducted solemnly and seriously. All voices join in--

THE CONSECRATION SONG, OR LANDSFATHER.

Silence all ye, each one call ye Unto solemn tones his ear!

Hark, the song of songs I raise now, German brothers, join in praise now, Sound it, Sound it back a chorus clear!

Of your Fatherland the song; Fatherland! thou land so famous, Sacred to thy glory claim us;-- Germans proudly, swell ye loudly, We, our swords, to thee belong!

Life and living to thee giving, We are all prepared to bleed: Ready at each hour for dying, Death, with all his wounds defying, If our Fatherland it need.

He who feels not; he who zeals not, In true worth to be arrayed,-- He shall not our bond dishonour; This our Bride,[38] swear not upon her; Nor the German sword degrade.

Song the proudest, swell it loudest; Brave and German be we too; See the consecrated band here, As brave Burschen take your stand here, And the free-cap strike ye through.

See it gleaming, softly beaming, In my left this stain-free glave; Thus I strike the cap through, swearing, Honour bright for ever wearing, Still to be a Bursche brave!

During the singing of the preceding stanzas, the two presidents hold their swords across each other, each holding his sword in his left hand, and placing the fingers of the right on it, to ratify the oath; and this being done, they pierce their caps through, and leave them hanging on the swords. While they do this, all sing:

Thus thou strik'st the cap through, swearing, Honour bright for ever wearing,-- Still to be a Bursche brave!

Each president then sings thus to his next neighbour while he reaches him the cup:--

Drinker! swimming, bright o'erbr.i.m.m.i.n.g, Take this Fatherlandish cup!

The presidents give their swords each to their next neighbours. These, who sit opposite to each other, have risen from their seats, and now hold the swords which they have received from the presidents, crossed, over the table. The presidents continue their song:

Thy left hand the keen sword bearing, Boring through the cap, and swearing-- To thy country drink it up!

[Here they empty the cups.

The two who have drunk now sing,--

See it gleaming, softly beaming, In my left this stain-free glave!

All repeat--"See it gleaming, softly beaming," etc.