entirely deserted them. Going through the wide and almost empty
streets there were to be met only sad countenances, women clothed in
black who mourned their husbands or sons fallen in one of the many
battles of this war, or mothers who were looking with anxiety into the
future and thinking of their distant sons who had gone to the army.

Here and there was seen some wounded soldier wearily dragging himself
along the street, but hearty, healthy men were seldom to be met, and
still more seldom was seen the fresh countenance of youth.

Berlin had been obliged to send not only her men and youths, but
also her boys of fourteen years to the army, which, according to the
confession of Frederick the Great, consisted, in the campaign of the
year 1760, only of renegades, marauders, and beardless boys.

For these reasons it seemed the more strange to hear at this time
issuing from one of the largest and handsomest houses on the Leipsic
Street the unwonted sounds of merry dance-music, cheerful singing and
shouting, which reached the street.

The passers-by stopped and looked with curiosity up to the windows, at
which could be seen occasionally a flushed joyous man's face or pretty
woman's head. But the men who were visible through the panes evidently
did not belong to the genteeler classes of society; their faces were
sunburnt, their hair hung down carelessly and unpowdered upon the
coarse and unfashionable cloth coat, and the attire of the maidens had
little in common with the elegance and fashion of the day.

"The rich Gotzkowsky gives a great feast to his workmen to-day,"
remarked the people in the street to one another; and as they passed