When I appeared with my mother a few days later in quest of more money he was furious, as he accused me of calling him a d— thing, though I had only accused him of being a disagreeable person.
It looked for a while as though the bank clerk was determined to have me arrested for calling him a bad name. I afterward learned that even in homes of peace you can be arrested for calling bad names and the offence becomes worse in war times. I was afraid that he might accuse me next of being a spy, so I made my escape and never saw the man again. The brewer and my mother finally quieted him and he gave us twenty pounds, or one hundred dollars, more. Some of the men finally arranged so that they got a few hundred dollars every week, at least enough to pay their board.
But I consoled myself by saying that there were some who had less credit than we had. There was an American man who had lived for years in China, and he said that he could not get a dollar. A Chicago lawyer took pity and shared his fifty pounds with him, trusting to fate to get some more.
After realizing fully that I could not get any money from the small bank, and in such desperate times it was foolish to depend on promises for aid, I decided to campaign for more money.
Just before the cables had been closed, I had been advised from home to seek advice and financial aid, if necessary, from two men in Frankfurt; the one I had met six months before and the other I did not know. At first I thought I would take a train and go up to Frankfurt to shorten the process of borrowing money. Though it is only a five hours' trip, under ordinary circumstances, from where I was, it had been prolonged to a fourteen hours' journey. I did not want to trust to the mail, as less than ten per cent. of the letters written were being received. I was glad to find out that I could wire for twenty-five cents, as money was too precious to be wasted on long distance messages, and it broke my heart every time I had to send a cable.
One evening I decided to find our Frankfurt friend. I soon discovered I had undertaken a large contract. When I looked in the directory I could not find his business address. I was about to give up in despair when the happy thought came that I might find it in the telephone book. I found the name, Heilburg, 61 Beethoven strasse. It's fortunate that many of the streets in Germany are named after the composers and artists, for though I had only been there once, I remembered they lived on a musical street.
After waiting a half-hour I got my party, and had as much difficulty in making him remember who I was as I had in holding an intelligible German conversation over the 'phone. I thought the man would drop at the 'phone when I asked him for two hundred and fifty dollars, and he compromised on half the amount. Though his intentions were the best, it took a week's hard telephoning every day until I actually had the money in my hand.
In the meanwhile I had received another cable from home telling me to call up a certain banker in Frankfurt. When I approached him on the same subject on the 'phone, he said he had never heard my name before, and I could not expect him to hand out money to a person he did not know. I acquiesced in his statement and said that his brother in America was a great friend of my brother. To this he answered he believed all I said was true, but did not see how he could loan me money without being authorized. Finally we compromised on seventy-five dollars, and he promised to let me have more if I sent our letter of credit. I refused to do that, as I knew it would only be lost in the mail.
I decided that I had enough to pay my board-bill for the next two weeks and that was a good deal more than others had, many of whom were living on credit or paying with checks and drafts. There were two or three of our guests who did not have dollar to their name, for all the English and French credit had been cut off. At the end of two weeks I saw my funds being depleted and I decided it was necessary to start on another campaign. In the meantime I had received a letter from a cousin in Dresden and I answered that I could use a little money. That week she sent me two hundred dollars, which paid our board-bill and debts accrued on telephone, telegraph and cable messages. When I left I still owed one week's board-bill. At first it looked as though our host did not intend to let us go without paying, but when he saw I was firm about paying no more he yielded, and said the rest could be paid after we got home. Money was so tight there for four weeks that anything beyond spending a penny for a newspaper was considered foolish extravagance, and I scolded my mother one day for spending twenty-five cents for flowers. Every time I took a carriage to make a long business journey I considered myself wicked, and a carriage ride for pleasure was out of the question. The only extravagance I knew was giving some money to the Red Cross society and some generous tips to the men who went off to the war. At times I thought I should forget how to shop if I ever reached the point where I had plenty of money of my own.
The condition of Americans in Berlin was not much better. I met friends with less than a dollar in their pockets. A doctor and his wife had come up from Carlsbad to Berlin with a quarter between them. Here they were fortunate enough to meet a friend who loaned them two hundred and fifty dollars for a ticket and traveling expenses.