ported back; a
clandestine but effective boycott had made the sale thereof impossible.
With much more gusto he related the days of Lassalle's agitation--that
had brought life into the still limbs of the masses, a great change had
seemed to be at hand. The wife of our old friend, too, had hoped for the
change; but now, she remarked somewhat resigned, "we old people would
rejoice if we were confident that the young generation would live to
bring about the change."

In this house we met a widow with a thirteen-year-old daughter.
Hauptmann found the child very striking. She had beautiful, soft,
golden-blond hair, deep-set eyes and a very delicate, pale complexion. I
learned later that he sent her occasional gifts. And when I read
"Hannele" I could not rid myself of the thought that the vision of this
child from Reichenbach must have haunted him when he created this drama.

That was my last outing with Hauptmann in the textile regions. A few
months later I visited him at his home, located in the woods, close to
the edge of a mountain.

Still later, when I was serving a term of imprisonment at the
Schweidnitzer prison for my sins in exercising too much freedom of the
press, I was overjoyed one morning by the news that Hauptmann had sent
me a box of books. Through his kindness, Gottfried Keller, Konrad
Ferdinand Meyer and other authors have illumined many dreary days of my
cell life.

All the books reached me safely but the "Weavers," which had just been
published at that time, and that I could not get hold of, in spite of
every effort. The inspector had strict orders to consider that book as
contraband.

Every time I went into the office to change one book for another, I saw
the "Weavers" on the table. The temptation to shove the book under my
jacket at an opportune moment was very great and trying, but
unfortunately the State Attorney had instilled the idea into the head of
the inspector that it was a very dangerous work; he never took his eyes
from it.

Gerhart Hauptmann remained to the Schweidnitzer prison administration
the most dangerous, prohibited author.

[Illustration]

DISAPPOINTED ECONOMISTS.

Teachers and economists represent the bees as models of diligence.
Behold how these little hard workers gather the honey together! Not a
sign of obstinacy. They never insist on a certain number of hours for
their workday, nor do they crave time for leisure, meditation or rest.
Indeed, they employ all thei