True Stories of the Great War, Volume 6 (of 6): Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses
History
True Stories of the Great War, Volume 6 (of 6): Tales of Adventure--Heroic Deeds--Exploits Told by the Soldiers, Officers, Nurses, Diplomats, Eye Witnesses
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
Practical joking has become popular in Brussels since the German
occupation. "Everybody's doing it"--amongst the Bruxellois, that
is. A prohibition was lately placed upon the use of motor-cars by
the civil population, and orders were issued for the enforcement of
dire penalties in cases of disobedience. One afternoon a couple of
German officers were seated in a _café_ discussing mugs of beer with
that portentous solemnity which the Teutonic mind finds proper to
such an occasion, when a loud "Honk, honk!" the unmistakable blast
of a motor-horn, was heard in the street outside. Forth dashed the
officers, indignant at this flagrant transgression of orders, but when
they reached the pavement no car was there. None was even in sight
upon the whole length of the boulevard, though the sound of the horn
had been close at hand. Crestfallen, the representatives of law and
order--Prussian style--returned to their beer-mugs, but were hardly
seated when again the loud "Honk, honk!" fell upon their ears, and
again they dashed into the street, with the same result. Convinced that
some impudent guttersnipe must be playing a trick, they questioned the
nearest sentry. But the latter had seen neither car nor urchin; he
had not even heard the mysterious sound, he averred, and the baffled
officers began almost to doubt their ears. But the smile on the face of
the Belgian proprietor of the _café_ was suspicious.
Fresh mugs of beer were requisitioned, but the very first "Prosit" was
interrupted by the malevolent "Honk, honk!" With froth-flecked lips
that gave them an aspect admirably suited to their mood, the enraged
officers set down the mugs with a bang and once more strode forth in
quest of the miscreant. Once more a perfectly empty street met their
gaze. But even as they scowled abroad, a mocking "Honk, honk!" sounded,
this time just above their heads. The listeners started and looked up,
to see a green parrot in a cage upon the window-sill above regarding
them imperturably with a beady inscrutable eye. So flagrant a case
of _lèse majesté_ could not be overlooked, and the green parrot was
executed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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