e long walks--sometimes with Dr. Boltze
and my school-mates, sometimes with friends, and often alone.

We frequently took a Sunday walk, which often began on Saturday
afternoon, usually with merry companions and in the society of our stern
master, who, gayer than the youngest of us, needed our care rather
than we his. In this way I visited the beautiful Muskau, and still more
frequently the lovely woodlands of the Spree, a richly watered region
intersected by numerous arms of the river and countless canals, resting
as quietly under dense masses of foliage as a child asleep at noontide
beneath the shadow of a tree.

The alders and willows, lindens and oaks, which grow along the banks,
are superb; flocks of birds fly twittering and calling from one bush
and branch to another; but all human intercourse is carried on, as in
Venice, by boats which glide noiselessly to and fro.

Whoever desires a faithful and minute picture of this singular region,
which reminded me of many scenes in Holland and many of Hobbema's
paintings, should read The Goddess of Noon. It contains a number of
descriptions whose truth and vividness are matchless.

Every trip into the woodlands of the Spree offered an abundance of
beautiful and pleasurable experiences, but I remember with still greater
enjoyment my leafy nooks on the river-bank.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE TIME OF EFFERVESCENCE, AND MY SCHOOL MATES.

Although the events of my school-days at Kottbus long since blended
together in my memory, my life there is divided into two sharply defined
portions. The latter commences with Professor Tzschirner's appointment
and the reform in the school.

From the first day of the latter's government I can recall what was
taught us in the class and how it influenced me, while I have entirely
forgotten what occurred during the interim. This seems strange; for,
while Langethal's, Middendorf's, and Barop's instruction, which I
received when so much younger, remains vividly impressed on my memory,
and it is the same with Tzschirner's lessons, the knowledge I acquired
between my fifteenth and seventeenth year is effaced as completely as
though I had passed a sponge over the slate of my memory. A chasm
yawns between these periods of instruction, and I cannot ascribe this
circumstance entirely to the amusements which withdrew my thoughts from
study; for they continued under Tzschirner's rule, though with some
restrictions. I wish I could believe that everythi