Rotkohl

— This one, who held the annual title, comic to the English but a beautiful reality to the German, of Miss Sauerkraut, had in her pallid tall glory exactly the texture of that well-prepared vegetable. A dab of rotkohl would not have harmed her cheeks. Miss Civitavecchia took a deep breath and began, palms outstretched : 'Ma—ma Mi—a!' And went on, for a long time, expending in a tumult of Italian the full breath of her bosom.