Those who died of the sickness were buried, and those who lived ran to the synagogues to pray.

We travellers felt hurt at the way the Germans treated us.

My mother nearly died of cholera once, but she was given a new name, a lucky one, which saved her; and that was when she was a small girl.
None of us were sick now, yet hear how we were treated! Those gendarmes and nurses always shouted their commands at us from a distance, as fearful of our touch as if we had been lepers.
We arrived in Hamburg early one morning, after a long night in the crowded cars.

We were marched up to a strange vehicle, long and narrow and high, drawn by two horses and commanded by a mute driver.
We were piled up on this wagon, our baggage was thrown after us, and we started on a sight-seeing tour across the city of Hamburg.

The sights I faithfully enumerate for the benefit of my uncle include little carts drawn by dogs, and big cars that run of themselves, later identified as electric cars.
The humorous side of our adventures did not escape me.