But if the toy shops and the theatres and the excitement of the children leave nothing to be desired, the weather has refused to play. Never can I remember so damp and dripping and sodden a Christmas. Our cold snap came in November. Then for a brief space we had frosts and red sunsets: those pre-Christmas sunsets when the German mother with a quaint materialism tells her children that “das Christ-kind bäckt”--the Christ Child is baking cakes for Christmas. But there was little baking this year on the part of the Christ Child. Fog and rain enveloped Cologne for days beforehand in a damp and dripping mantle. In a foreign land I found myself missing the hundred and one small duties which at home have to be carried out at Christmas. It is dull work ordering your presents by post. Even so it was all done, and unless I went out in the wet and looked at the toy shops there was nothing to show Christmas was at hand. Finally I was struck by a bright idea. Why shouldn’t we have a Christmas tree? Yes, and presents for the household, including the cross cook. Peace has been signed, and it is the season of peace and goodwill: so why not? First of all I sounded Maria--this was before the days of the good-tempered Clara. Why shouldn’t we have a Christmas tree--every other house in the street was getting ready for one? Maria’s eyes glistened: she had had no Christmas tree since the war, to see one again would be a joy indeed. Yes, most certainly she would undertake to buy a suitable tree if I wanted one. My next business was to sound our Frau. She too lent a favourable ear to my proposal. No, they had had no Christmas tree since the war, but it would be pleasant to begin again. She had plenty of decorations and candle-holders and would be glad to lend them to me. Madame was as good as her word, and produced boxes of crystal balls and coloured tinsels and a solid wood block into which the tree could be fixed. Throughout a wet and gloomy afternoon Maria and I saw to the decorations, and on Christmas Eve the tree was lit up and our mixed household held a short and curious gathering in the dining-room. Whatever faults may be urged against the Germans, they are certainly not lacking in a considerable measure of personal dignity. The attitude of our Frau and her maids was everything that was correct. They received their small gifts with pleasure and praised the English Christmas cake, slices of which were handed round. We exchanged greetings and good wishes for Christmas and the coming year, and the tree with its candles and tinsel bravery was an object of much admiration. But could the inner thoughts of any one of us in the room have been revealed, how strange and painful must the texture have proved!