My little boy,
born in Bavaria, and but four years old when we left the kingdom, liked
the beer better than the other children, and so gave some support to the
theory that the Bavarians take to beer by instinct. He shared, too, in
the patriotic doubt of the people as to the possibility of successfully
imitating the article in other countries. When, on our journey homeward,
the train brought us into the little city of Koethen, we found evidence
of one of those attempts so unsuccessfully made everywhere in North
Germany to imitate the Bavarian beer. A man passed along by the train,
crying at the top of his voice, "_Baierisches bier!_" upon which the
little fellow, in the height of his indignation, cried out,
"_Baierisches Bier nicht!_"--("Not Bavarian beer!")--and so the cry and
response continued until the parties were out of each other's hearing,
and all the passengers in the train had their attention called, and
their main amusement furnished, by this childish outburst of patriotic
indignation. At this point, my life, observation, and adventures in
connection with Bavarian beer ceased, and almost the last echo of its
magic name in the original tongue died on my ears.
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