d-shouldered man, with his thick red beard, looked as
one might imagine Odin. Summer and winter his dress was a grey woollen
jacket, into which a short pipe was thrust, and around his hips a broad
leather belt, from which hung a bag containing his drawing materials.
He cared nothing for public opinion, and, as an independent bachelor,
desired nothing except "to be let alone," for he professed the utmost
contempt for the corrupt brood yclept "mankind." He never came to our
entertainments, probably because he would be obliged to wear something
in place of his woollen jacket, and because he avoided women, whom
he called "the roots of all evil." I still remember how once, after
emptying the vials of his wrath upon mankind, he said, in reply to the
question whether he included Barop among the iniquitous brood, "Why, of
course not; he doesn't belong to it!"

There was no lack of opportunity to visit him, for a great many persons
employed to work for the school lived in Blankenburg, and we were known
to be carefully watched there.

I remember two memorable expeditions to the little town. Once my brother
burned his arm terribly during a puppet-show by the explosion of some
powder provided for the toy cannon.

The poor fellow suffered so severely that I could not restrain my tears,
and though it was dark, and snow lay on the mountains, off I went to
Blankenburg to get the old surgeon, calling to some of my school-mates
at the door to tell them of my destination. It was no easy matter to
wade through the snow; but, fortunately, the stars gave me sufficient
light to keep in the right path as I dashed down the mountain to
Blankenburg. How often I plunged into ditches filled with snow and
slid down short descents I don't know; but as I write these lines I can
vividly remember the relief with which I at last trod the pavement of
the little town. Old Wetzel was at home, and a carriage soon conveyed us
over the only road to the institute. I was not punished. Barop only laid
his hand on my head, and said, "I am glad you are back again, Bear."

Another trip to Blankenburg entailed results far more serious--nay,
almost cost me my life.

I was then fifteen, and one Sunday afternoon I went with Barop's
permission to visit the Hamburgers, but on condition that I should
return by nine o'clock at latest.

Time, however, slipped by in pleasant conversation until a later hour,
and as thunder-clouds were rising my host tried to keep me over