While studying at the University of Göttingen, Bismarck was taken ill one day. The doctor was sent for and ordered quinine. Soon after he had left, a big box of “eatables” arrived from home. Bismarck went at it, consumed about two pounds of sausage, washed down with several glasses of beer, and then went to sleep. The fever left him. Next day when the doctor came he said: “Thank heaven, dear doctor, the fever is gone.” “Yes,” replied the doctor, “quinine is a most excellent remedy.” “Well it wasn’t exactly this time, you best of doctors, but two pounds of sausage had the same effect, and nature may do the rest.” To Suit All Parties When the new two-mark piece was issued, a number proposed to call it Bis-mark, bis being the Latin for twice. The National Liberals would then have Bismarck in their pockets, the Socialists would see him beaten, the Ultramontanes could get him changed whenever they liked, and to the Government, the formation of a Bismarck party, would insure the most wide-spread influence. He Rose Prince Bismarck and Count Kleist-Retzow, friends and related to each other, accepted an invitation to a hunt of several days. The first day the two followed the noble sport with great zest. When they returned in the evening, Kleist-Retzow was so very much fatigued that he told Bismarck that he would not rise at seven the following morning to continue the hunt. While talking gaily over their wine, Bismarck said that he would take care that he got out of his bed whether he liked it or not. After they had retired, the Count locked and barricaded his door against Bismarck’s attack the next morning, and then went to bed. But once more Bismarck’s voice came from the next room admonishing his friend to be sure and rise in good time. “Keep quiet; I want to go to sleep,” replied Kleist-Retzow. “Yes, and you’ll get up when I want you to, I’ll give you my word for that,” returned Bismarck, and then went to sleep himself. At half-past six in the morning, the Chancellor knocked at Kleist-Retzow’s door and as it was not opened, he called to him to get up. The Count had not the slightest intention of doing so, and Bismarck assured him again that he would be out of his bed by seven. Kleist-Retzow lay still and paid no attention to him. Bismarck took his shotgun, went into the yard, stood before the window of his friend’s bedroom and shot through it into the ceiling, so that the plaster fell down upon the Count’s head. Kleist-Retzow, very much frightened, jumped up at once and went to the window to see what had happened. Seeing nobody, he quickly put on his clothes and hurried down-stairs. Bismarck came to meet him, greeted him, and without changing a muscle, said: “I hope you have rested well; it is just seven o’clock!” A Novel Signal