New Palace at Potsdam watching the family of the Crown Prince, that beautiful forenoon in May....  When I told him I had myself mitgemacht the Civil War in America he at once accorded me respect as a veteran.  I think he was a Freiwilliger, one of the class, who, having reached a high status in the Gymnasium, enjoyed the privilege of a shorter term of service.  He had the bearing of a cultivated gentleman and there was strength in his firm young face which I have no doubt made him a good soldier in the time of stress.  We shook hands at last in the friendliest way and I saw him no more.  A few days later the train in which I was riding stopped at Erfurt and among the groups at the station was one that interested me much.  In the centre stood a sturdy young Uhlan gaudy in full dress which I fancied he had only lately assumed, his stature was increased by his lofty horse-hair plume and he wore his corselet over a uniform in which there was many a dye.  A bevy of pretty girls thronged around him, freshly beautiful after the German type, blond and blue-eyed in attractive summer draperies, and I speculated pleasantly as to which among them were sisters and which sweethearts.  As the train departed the young Uhlan climbed into my compartment and we sat vis-a-vis as we rode on through the country.  He was a frank ingenuous boy of twenty with eyes that danced with life, and a mobile play of features.  My claim that I had seen service in the tented field again served me in good stead as an introduction; it was a passport to his confidence and I had a pleasant hour or two with him until he left me at length at his rendezvous.

Best of all I remember a third encounter.  When I stepped from my car at Weimar I asked a direction from a young grenadier off duty who stood at hand on the platform.  He too possessed the usual Teutonic vigour and strength.  A conversation sprang up in which I explained that I was an American and desired to see as well as I could in a few hours the interesting things in that little city so quiet and renowned.  I had found out by this time that my small veteranship was a good asset and paraded it for all it was worth and as usual it told.  He was off duty for a few hours and had never visited the shrines of Weimar, and if I had no objection he would like to go with me on my tour of inspection, so together we walked through those shadowed streets, which seemed to be haunted even in that bright sunshine by the ghosts of the great men who have walked in them.  We saw the homes of Goethe and Schiller, the noble statues of the Dichter-Paar, and the old theatre behind it in which were first performed the masterpieces of the German drama.  We went together to the cemetery and descending into the crypt of the mausoleum stood by the coffins of Goethe and Schiller, the men most illustrious in German letters.  It was a memorable day of my life, the outward conditions perfect, the June sunshine, the wealth of lovely foliage, the bird