on the south side of the Thuringian wood; arose at midnight; that evening I had eaten freely of the trout and had drunk weak beer with them; at one o’clock we rode to a forge in the mountains, where ghostlike people poked the fire; then we climbed, without stopping, until three o ’clock, in pouring rain, I wearing a heavy overcoat; so steep that I had to help myself with my hands; so dark in the fir thickets that I could touch the huntsman ahead of me with my hand, but could not see him.  Then, too, we were told there is a precipice on the right, and the torrent sent up its roar from the purple depths below; or that there is a pool on the left, and the path was slippery.  I had to halt three times; repeatedly I almost fainted from weakness, lay down on the dripping heath, and let the rain pour on me.  But I was firmly resolved to see the grouse; and I did see several, but could not shoot them, for reasons which one must be a huntsman to understand.  My companion shot one, and, if I had been well, I might have shot two; I was too exhausted.  After three it cleared and became wonderfully fine, the horn-owl gave place to the thrush, and at sunrise the bird-chorus became deafening; the wood-pigeons singing bass, withal.  At five I was down again, and, as it began to pour once more, I abandoned further attempts, returned hither, ate very heartily, after a twenty-four hours’ fast, and drank two glasses of champagne, then slept for fourteen hours, until yesterday at one o’clock, noon, and now I am feeling much better than before the excursion, and am glad of the good constitution which God has given me, to get through it all. * * * I send you lots of love, my heart, and will piously celebrate fast-day tomorrow at the Wermel church.  God preserve you.  Love to mother and Melissa.  Excuse my haste.  I had really left myself an hour of leisure, but that little old Mass has his fourteenth child, just born.  The only son of our poor Eglofstein, of Arklitten, twenty-three-year-old lieutenant of cuirassiers, has shot himself in hypochondria; I pity the father extremely, a devout, honorable man.

Your most faithful

v.B.

Schoenhausen, Sunday Evening.

(Postmarked Jerichow, September 30, ’50.)

My Beloved Nan,—­ * * * I regained possession of my things in Berlin at some cost, after twenty-four hours had elapsed; when I left, the unfortunate Jew had not yet claimed his.  Partly on my account and partly on Hans’, we had to stay in Berlin two days, but this time the bill was more reasonable. * * * May the devil take politics!  Here I found everything as we left it, only the leaves show the rosiness of autumn; flowers are almost more plentiful than in summer; Kahle has a particular fondness for them, and on the terrace fabulous pumpkins are suspended by their vines from the trees.  The pretty plums are gone; only a few blue ones still remain; of the vine, only the common green variety is ripe; next week I shall send you some grapes.  I have devoured