ble scholars,
clergymen, and members of Parliament; others again government officials,
who fill high positions; and others still are at the head of large
industrial or mercantile enterprises. I have not heard of a single
individual who has gone to ruin, and of very many who have accomplished
things really worthy of note. But wherever I have met an old pupil of
Keilhau, I have found in him the same love for the institute, have seen
his eyes sparkle more brightly when we talked of Langethal, Middendorf,
and Barop. Not one has turned out a sneak or a hypocrite.

The present institution is said to be an admirable one; but the
"Realschule" of Keilhau, which has been forced to abandon its former
humanistic foundation, can scarcely train to so great a variety of
callings the boys now entrusted to its care.

CHAPTER XIV. RUDOLSTADT

The little country of Rudolstadt in which Keilhau lies had had its
revolution, though it was but a small and bloodless one. True, the
insurrection had nothing to do with human beings, but involved the
destruction of living creatures. Greater liberty in hunting was
demanded.

This might seem a trivial matter, yet it was of the utmost importance to
both disputants. The wide forests of the country had hitherto been
the hunting-grounds of the prince, and not a gun could be fired there
without his permission. To give up these "happy hunting-grounds" was
a severe demand upon the eager sportsman who occupied the Rudolstadt
throne, and the rustic population would gladly have spared him had it
been possible.

But the game in Rudolstadt had become a veritable torment, which
destroyed the husbandmen's hopes of harvests. The peasant, to save his
fields from the stags and does which broke into them in herds at sunset,
tried to keep them out by means of clappers and bad odours. I have seen
and smelled the so-called "Frenchman's oil" with which the posts were
smeared, that its really diabolical odour--I don't know from what
horrors it was compounded--might preserve the crops. The ornament of
the forests had become the object of the keenest hate, and as soon
as--shortly before we entered Keilhau--hunting was freely permitted, the
peasants gave full vent to their rage, set off for the woods with the
old muskets they had kept hidden in the garrets, or other still
more primitive weapons, and shot or struck down all the game they
encountered. Roast venison was cheap for weeks on Rudolstadt tables, and
the