{"id":31586,"date":"2015-07-05T01:00:49","date_gmt":"2015-07-05T05:00:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/?p=31586"},"modified":"2018-01-15T18:49:42","modified_gmt":"2018-01-15T23:49:42","slug":"qotd-dont-walk-on-the-grass","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/2015\/07\/05\/qotd-dont-walk-on-the-grass\/","title":{"rendered":"QotD: Don’t walk on the grass!"},"content":{"rendered":"

… in Germany most human faults and follies sink into comparative insignificance beside the enormity of walking on the grass. Nowhere, and under no circumstances, may you at any time in Germany walk on the grass. Grass in Germany is quite a fetish. To put your foot on German grass would be as great a sacrilege as to dance a hornpipe on a Mohammedan\u2019s praying-mat. The very dogs respect German grass; no German dog would dream of putting a paw on it. If you see a dog scampering across the grass in Germany, you may know for certain that it is the dog of some unholy foreigner. In England, when we want to keep dogs out of places, we put up wire netting, six feet high, supported by buttresses, and defended on the top by spikes. In Germany, they put a notice-board in the middle of the place, \u201cHunden verboten<\/em>,\u201d and a dog that has German blood in its veins looks at that notice-board and walks away. In a German park I have seen a gardener step gingerly with felt boots on to grass-plot, and removing therefrom a beetle, place it gravely but firmly on the gravel; which done, he stood sternly watching the beetle, to see that it did not try to get back on the grass; and the beetle, looking utterly ashamed of itself, walked hurriedly down the gutter, and turned up the path marked \u201cAusgang<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

In German parks separate roads are devoted to the different orders of the community, and no one person, at peril of liberty and fortune, may go upon another person\u2019s road. There are special paths for \u201cwheel-riders\u201d and special paths for \u201cfoot-goers,\u201d avenues for \u201chorse-riders,\u201d roads for people in light vehicles, and roads for people in heavy vehicles; ways for children and for \u201calone ladies.\u201d That no particular route has yet been set aside for bald-headed men or \u201cnew women\u201d has always struck me as an omission.<\/p>\n

In the Grosse Garten<\/em> in Dresden I once came across an old lady, standing, helpless and bewildered, in the centre of seven tracks. Each was guarded by a threatening notice, warning everybody off it but the person for whom it was intended.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am sorry to trouble you,\u201d said the old lady, on learning I could speak English and read German, \u201cbut would you mind telling me what I am and where I have to go?\u201d<\/p>\n

I inspected her carefully. I came to the conclusion that she was a \u201cgrown-up\u201d and a \u201cfoot-goer,\u201d and pointed out her path. She looked at it, and seemed disappointed.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I don\u2019t want to go down there,\u201d she said; \u201cmayn\u2019t I go this way?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGreat heavens, no, madam!\u201d I replied. \u201cThat path is reserved for children.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I wouldn\u2019t do them any harm,\u201d said the old lady, with a smile. She did not look the sort of old lady who would have done them any harm.<\/p>\n

\u201cMadam,\u201d I replied, \u201cif it rested with me, I would trust you down that path, though my own first-born were at the other end; but I can only inform you of the laws of this country. For you, a full-grown woman, to venture down that path is to go to certain fine, if not imprisonment. There is your path, marked plainly \u2014 Nur f\u00fcr Fussg\u00e4nger<\/em>, and if you will follow my advice, you will hasten down it; you are not allowed to stand here and hesitate.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t lead a bit in the direction I want to go,\u201d said the old lady.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt leads in the direction you ought to want to go,\u201d I replied, and we parted.<\/p>\n

In the German parks there are special seats labelled, \u201cOnly for grown-ups\u201d (Nur f\u00fcr Erwachsene<\/em>), and the German small boy, anxious to sit down, and reading that notice, passes by, and hunts for a seat on which children are permitted to rest; and there he seats himself, careful not to touch the woodwork with his muddy boots. Imagine a seat in Regent\u2019s or St. James\u2019s Park labelled \u201cOnly for grown-ups!\u201d Every child for five miles round would be trying to get on that seat, and hauling other children off who were on. As for any \u201cgrown-up,\u201d he would never be able to get within half a mile of that seat for the crowd. The German small boy, who has accidentally sat down on such without noticing, rises with a start when his error is pointed out to him, and goes away with down-cast head, brushing to the roots of his hair with shame and regret.<\/p>\n

Not that the German child is neglected by a paternal Government. In German parks and public gardens special places (Spielpl\u00e4tze<\/em>) are provided for him, each one supplied with a heap of sand. There he can play to his heart\u2019s content at making mud pies and building sand castles. To the German child a pie made of any other mud than this would appear an immoral pie. It would give to him no satisfaction: his soul would revolt against it.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat pie,\u201d he would say to himself, \u201cwas not, as it should have been, made of Government mud specially set apart for the purpose; it was not manufactured in the place planned and maintained by the Government for the making of mud pies. It can bring no real blessing with it; it is a lawless pie.\u201d And until his father had paid the proper fine, and he had received his proper licking, his conscience would continue to trouble him.<\/p>\n

Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men on the Bummel<\/em><\/a>, 1914.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

… in Germany most human faults and follies sink into comparative insignificance beside the enormity of walking on the grass. Nowhere, and under no circumstances, may you at any time in Germany walk on the grass. Grass in Germany is quite a fetish. To put your foot on German grass would be as great a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":35193,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[62,1118,57,9,41],"tags":[343,948],"class_list":["post-31586","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-europe","category-germany","category-humour","category-law","category-quotations","tag-crimeandpunishment","tag-jkjerome"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/favicon.png","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2hpV6-8ds","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31586","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31586"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31586\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":31587,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31586\/revisions\/31587"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/35193"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31586"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31586"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quotulatiousness.ca\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31586"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}