Though the two were generally at a distance, their existence made itself felt again and again either through letters or presents or by their coming to Berlin, which always brought holidays for us.

These journeys were accomplished under difficulties.  Our aunt had always used an open carriage, and was really convinced that she would stifle in a closed railway compartment.  But as she would not forego the benefit of rapid transit, our grandmother was obliged, even after her daughter’s marriage, to hire an open truck for her, on which, with her faithful maid Minna, and one of her dogs, or sometimes with her husband or a friend as a companion, she established herself comfortably in an armchair of her own, with various other conveniences about her.  The railway officials knew her, and no doubt shrugged their shoulders, but the warmheartedness shining in her eyes and her unvarying cheerfulness carried everything before them, so that her eccentricity was readily overlooked.  And she had plenty of similar caprices.  I was visiting her once in the Christmas holidays, when I was a schoolboy in the upper class, and we had retired for the night.  At one o’clock my aunt suddenly appeared at my bedside, waked me, and told me to get up.  The first snow had fallen, and she had had the horses harnessed for us to go sleighing, which she particularly enjoyed.

Resistance was useless, and the swift flight over the snow by moonlight proved to be very enjoyable.  Between four and five o’clock in the morning we were at home again.

Winter brought many other amusements.  I remember with particular pleasure the Christmas fair, which now, as I learn to my regret, is no longer held.  And yet, what a source of delight it once was to children!  What rich food it offered to their minds!  The Christmas trees and pyramids at the Stechbahn, the various wares, the gingerbread and toys in the booths, offered by no means the greatest charm.  A still stronger attraction were the boys with the humming “baboons,” the rattles and flags, for from them purchases had always to be made, with jokes thrown into the bargain—­bad ones, which are invariably the most amusing; and what a pleasure it was to twirl the “baboon” with one’s own little hand, and, if the hand got cold during the process, one did not feel it, for it seemed like midsummer with a swarm of flies buzzing about one!

But most enjoyable of all was probably the throng of people, great and small, and all there was to hear and see among them and to answer.  It seemed as if the Christmas joy of the city was concentrated there, and filled the not over-clear atmosphere like the pungent odour of Christmas trees.

Put there were other things to experience as well as mere gaiety—­the pale child in the corner, with its little bare feet, holding in its cold, red hands the six little sheep of snow-white wool on a tiny green board; and that other yonder, with the little man made of prunes spitted on tiny sticks.