Pegnitz boasted a large iron-foundry and a considerable population of factory hands. Rumor had it that this class held more enmity toward citizens of the Allied powers than the rural population, that it would even be dangerous for me to mix with them. I took pains, therefore, to stroll toward the foundry gate as the workmen were leaving, at six. They toiled eight hours a day, like all their class throughout Germany now, but took advantage of the change to sleep late, “like the capitalists,” beginning their labors at eight and taking two hours off at noon. I picked out an intelligent-looking workman and fell into conversation with him, deliberately emphasizing the fact that I was an American. A considerable group of his fellows crowded around us, and several joined in the conversation. But though two or three scowled a bit when my nationality was whispered through the gathering, it was evidently merely a sign that they were puzzling to know how I had come so far afield so soon after the signing of the armistice. Far from showing any enmity, they evinced a most friendly curiosity, tinged only once or twice with a mild and crude attempt at sarcasm which the others at once scowled down. Several wished to know how wages were in their line in America, particularly whether our workmen had forced “the capitalists” to grant the eight-hour day, and several inquired how soon I thought it would be possible to emigrate—how soon, that is, that enough ships would be released from military service to bring fares down within reach of a working-man’s purse. Not one of them seemed to suspect that there might be other difficulties than financial ones. Then, of course, the majority deluged me with questions as to when America would actually begin to send fats and foodstuffs and raw materials for their factories and—and tobacco. There was little suggestion of under-nourishment in this gathering, though, to be sure, none of them seemed overfed. They looked hardy and fit; the faces under the red-banded, visorless caps that covered a majority of the heads showed few signs of ill health. It is not so much the factory hands themselves, with their out-of-work pensions even when labor is lacking, who suffer from the stagnation of Germany’s industries, as the hangers-on of the factory class—the busy-time helpers, the unprovided women and children, the small shopkeepers who depend on this class for their clientèle. XV MUSIC STILL HAS CHARMS