ting on the studs with the Polish eagles and
using the pocket-handkerchief with the Kosynier (scythe-man) depicted on
it.

What is going on at home? [he writes, on May 28, 1831.] I am
always dreaming of you. Is there still no end to the
bloodshed? I know your answer: "Patience!" I, too, always
comfort myself with that.

But good health, he finds, is the best comfort in misfortune, and if his
bulletins to his parents could be trusted he was in full enjoyment of
it.

Zacharkiewicz of Warsaw called on me; and when his wife saw
me at Szaszek's, she did not know how to sufficiently express
her astonishment at my having become such a sturdy fellow. I
have let my whiskers grow only on the right side, and they
are growing very well; on the left side they are not needed
at all, for one sits always with the right side turned to the
public.

Although his "ideal" is not there to retain him, yet he cannot make up
his mind to leave Vienna. On May 28, he writes:--

How quickly this dear time passes! It is already the end of
May, and I am still in Vienna. June will come, and I shall
probably be still here, for Kumelski fell ill and was obliged
to take to bed again.

It was not only June but past the middle of July before Chopin left, and
I am afraid he would not always have so good an excuse for prolonging
his stay as the sickness of his travelling-companion. On June 25,
however, we hear of active preparations being made for departure.

I am in good health, that is the only thing that cheers me,
for it seems as if my departure would never take place. You
all know how irresolute I am, and in addition to this I meet
with obstacles at every step. Day after day I am promised my
passport, and I run from Herod to Pontius Pilate, only to get
back what I deposited at the police office. To-day I heard
even more agreeable news--namely, that my passport has been
mislaid, and that they cannot find it; I have even to send in
an application for a new one. It is curious how now every
imaginable misfortune befalls us poor Poles. Although I am
ready to depart, I am unable to set out.

Chopin had been advised by Mr. Beyer to have London instead of Paris
put as a visa in his passport. The police complied with his request
that this should be done, but the Russian Ambassador, after keeping
the document for two days, gave him only permission to travel as far as
Munich