from all external anxieties, he had under their roof ample leisure for
industrious labour and also for intercourse with his own friends.

In July, 1817, he passed the last examination with the greatest
distinction, receiving the "very good," rarely bestowed; and a brilliant
career lay before him.

Directly after this success three pulpits were offered to him, but he
accepted neither, because he longed for rest and quiet occupation.

The summons from Froebel to devote himself to his infant institute, where
Langethal had placed his younger brother, also reached him. The little
school moved on St. John's Day, 1817, from Griesheim to Keilhau, where
the widow of Pastor Froebel had been offered a larger farm. The place
which she and her children's teacher found was wonderfully adapted to
Froebel's purpose, and seemed to promise great advantages both to the
pupils and to the institute. There was much building and arranging to be
accomplished, but means to do so were obtained, and the first pupil
described very amusingly the entrance into the new home, the furnishing,
the discovery of all the beauties and advantages which we found as an old
possession in Keilhau, and the endeavour, so characteristic of
Middendorf, to adapt even the less attractive points to his own poetic
ideas.

Only the hours of instruction fared badly, and Froebel felt that he
needed a man of fully developed strength in order to give the proper
foundation to the instruction of the boys who were entrusted to his care.
He knew a man of this stamp in the student F. A. Wolfs, whose talent for
teaching had been admirably proved in the Bendemann family.

"Langethal," as the first pupil describes him, was at that time a very
handsome man of five-and-twenty years. His brow was grave, but his
features expressed kindness of heart, gentleness, and benevolence. The
dignity of his whole bearing was enhanced by the sonorous tones of his
voice--he retained them until old age--and his whole manner revealed
manly firmness. Middendorf was more pleasing to women, Langethal to men.
Middendorf attracted those who saw, Langethal those who heard him, and
the confidence he inspired was even more lasting than that aroused by
Middendorf.

What marvel that Froebel made every effort to win this rare power for the
young institute? But Langethal declined, to the great vexation of
Middendorf. Diesterweg called the latter "a St. John," but our dear,
blind teacher added, "And Froebel was his Christus."

The enthusiastic young Westphalian, who had once believed he saw in this
man every masculine virtue, and whose life appeared emblematical,
patiently accepted everything, and considered every one a "renegade" who
had ever followed Froebel and did not bow implicitly to his will. So he
was angered by Langethal's refusal. The latter had been offered, with
brilliant prospects for the present and still fairer ones for the future,
a position as a tutor in Silesia, a place which secured him the rest he
desired, combined with occupation suited to his tastes. He was to share
the labour of teaching with another instructor, who was to take charge of
the exact sciences, with which he was less familiar, and he was also
permitted to teach his brother with the young Counts Stolberg.

He accepted, but before going to Silesia he wished to visit his Keilhau
friends and take his brother away with him. He did so, and the
"diplomacy" with which Froebel succeeded in changing the decision of the
resolute young man and gaining him over to his own interests, is really
remarkable. It won for the infant institute in the person of
Langethal--if the expression is allowable--the backbone.

Froebel had sent Middendorf to meet his friend, and the latter, on the
way, told him of the happiness which he had found in his new home and
occupation. Then they entered Keilhau, and the splendid landscape which
surrounds it needs no praise.

Froebel received his former comrade with the utmost cordiality, and the
sight of the robust, healthy, merry boys who were lying on the floor that
evening, building forts and castles with the wooden blocks which Froebel
had had made for them according to his own plan, excited the keenest
interest. He had come to take his brother away; but when he saw him,
among other happy companions of his own age, complete the finest
structure of all--a Gothic cathedral--it seemed almost wrong to tear the
child from this circle.

He gazed sadly at his brother when he came to bid him "good-night," and
then remained alone with Froebel. The latter was less talkative than
usual, waiting for his friend to tell him of the future which awaited him
in Silesia. When he heard that a second tutor was to relieve Langethal of
half his work, he exclaimed, with the greatest anxiety:

"You do not know him, and yet intend to finish a work of education with
him? What great chances you are hazarding!"

The next morning Froebel asked his friend what goal in life he had set
before him, and Langethal replied:

"Like the apostle, I would fain proclaim the gospel to all men according
to the best of my powers, in order to bring them into close communion
with the Redeemer."

Froebel answered, thoughtfully:

"If you desire that, you must, like the apostles, know men. You must be
able to enter into the life of every one--here a peasant, there a
mechanic. If you can not, do not hope for success; your influence will
not extend far."

How wise and convincing the words sounded! And Froebel touched the
sensitive spot in the young minister, who was thoroughly imbued with the
sacred beauty of his life-task, yet certainly knew the Gospels, his
classic authors, and apostolic fathers much better than he did the world.

He thoughtfully followed Froebel, who, with Middendorf and the boys, led
him up the Steiger, the mountain whose summit afforded the magnificent
view I have described. It was the hour when the setting sun pours its
most exquisite light over the mountains and valleys. The heart of the
young clergyman, tortured by anxious doubts, swelled at the sight of this
magnificence, and Froebel, seeing what was passing in his mind,
exclaimed:

"Come, comrade, let us have one of our old war-songs."

The musical "black Jager" of yore willingly assented; and how clearly and
enthusiastically the chorus of boyish voices chimed in!

When it died away, the older man passed his arm around his friend's
shoulders, and, pointing to the beautiful region lying before them in the
sunset glow, exclaimed:

"Why seek so far away what is close at hand? A work is established here
which must be built by the hand of God! Implicit devotion and
self-sacrifice are needed."

While speaking, he gazed steadfastly into his friend's tearful eyes, as
if he had found his true object in life, and when he held out his hand
Langethal clasped it--he could not help it.

That very day a letter to the Counts Stolberg informed them that they
must seek another tutor for their sons, and Froebel and Keilhau could
congratulate themselves on having gained their Langethal.

The management of the school was henceforward in the hands of a man of
character, while the extensive knowledge and the excellent method of a
well-trained scholar had been obtained for the educational department.
The new institute now prospered rapidly. The renown of the fresh,
healthful life and the able tuition of the pupils spread far beyond the
limits of Thuringia. The material difficulties with which the head-master
had had to struggle after the erection of the large new buildings were
also removed when Froebel's prosperous brother in Osterode decided to
take part in the work and move to Keilhau. He understood farming, and, by
purchasing more land and woodlands, transformed the peasant holding into
a considerable estate.

When Froebel's restless spirit drew him to Switzerland to undertake new
educational enterprises, and some one was needed who could direct the
business management, Barop, the steadfast man of whom I have already
spoken, was secured. Deeply esteemed and sincerely beloved, he managed
the institute during the time that we three brothers were pupils there.
He had found many things within to arrange on a more practical
foundation, many without to correct: for the long locks of most of the
pupils; the circumstance that three Lutzen Jagers, one of whom had
delivered the oration at a students' political meeting, had established
the school; that Barop had been persecuted as a demagogue on account of
his connection with a students' political society; and, finally,
Froebel's relations with Switzerland and the liberal educational methods
of the school, had roused the suspicions of the Berlin demagogue-hunters,
and therefore demagogic tendencies, from which in reality it had always
held aloof, were attributed to the institute.

Yes, we were free, in so far that everything which could restrict or
retard our physical and mental development was kept away from us, and our
teachers might call themselves so because, with virile energy, they had
understood how to protect the institute from every injurious and
narrowing outside influence. The smallest and the largest pupil was free,
for he was permitted to be wholly and entirely his natural self, so long
as he kept within the limits imposed by the existing laws. But license
was nowhere more sternly prohibited than at Keilhau; and the deep
religious feeling of its head-masters--Barop, Langethal, and
Middendorf--ought to have taught the suspicious spies in Berlin that the
command, "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's," would never
be violated here.

The time I spent in Keilhau was during the period of the worst reaction,
and I now know that our teachers would have sat on the Left in the
Prussian Landtag; yet we never heard a disrespectful word spoken of
Frederick William IV, and we were instructed to show the utmost respect
to the prince of the little country of Rudolstadt to which Keilhau
belonged. Barop, spite of his liberal tendencies, was highly esteemed by
this petty sovereign, decorated with an order, and raised to the rank of
Councillor of Education. From a hundred isolated recollections and words
which have lingered in my memory I have gathered that our teachers were
liberals in a very moderate way, yet they were certainly guilty of
"demagogic aspirations" in so far as that they desired for their native
land only what we, thank Heaven, now possess its unity, and a popular
representation, by a free election of all its states, in a German
Parliament. What enthusiasm for the Emperor William, Bismarck, and Von
Moltke, Langethal, Middendorf, and Barop would have inspired in our
hearts had they been permitted to witness the great events of 1870 and
1871!

Besides, politics were kept from us, and this had become known in wider
circles when we entered the institute, for most of the pupils belonged to
loyal families. Many were sons of the higher officials, officers, and
landed proprietors; and as long locks had long since become the
exception, and the Keilhau pupils were as well mannered as possible, many
noblemen, among them chamberlains and other court officials, decided to
send their boys to the institute.

The great manufacturers and merchants who placed their sons in the
institute were also not men favourable to revolution, and many of our
comrades became officers in the German army. Others are able 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.

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 pupils had many an
unexpected pleasure.

The hunting exploits of the older scholars were only learned by us
younger ones as secrets, and did not reach the teachers' ears until long
after.

But the woods furnished other pleasures besides those enjoyed by the
sportsman. Every ramble through the forest enriched our knowledge of
plants and animals, and I soon knew the different varieties of stones
also; yet we did not suspect that this knowledge was imparted according
to a certain system. We were taught as it were by stealth, and how many
pleasant, delicious things attracted us to the class-rooms on the wooded
heights!

Vegetation was very abundant in the richly watered mountain valley. Our
favourite spring was the Schaalbach at the foot of the Steiger,--[We
pupils bought it of the peasant who owned it and gave it to
Barop.]--because there was a fowling-floor connected with it, where I
spent many a pleasant evening. It could be used only after breeding-time,
and consisted of a hut built of boughs where the birdcatcher lodged.
Flowing water rippled over the little wooden rods on which the feathered
denizens of the woods alighted to quench their thirst before going to
sleep. When some of them--frequently six at a time--had settled on the
perches in the trough, it was drawn into the but by a rope, a net was
spread over the water and there was nothing more to do except take the
captives out.

The name of the director of this amusement was Merbod. He could imitate
the voices of all the birds, and was a merry, versatile fellow, who knew
how to do a thousand things, and of whom we boys were very fond.

The peasant Bredernitz often took us to his crow-hut, which was a hole in
the ground covered with boughs and pieces of turf, where the hunters lay
concealed. The owl, which lured the crows and other birds of prey, was
fastened on a perch, and when they flew up, often in large flocks, to
tease the old cross-patch which sat blinking angrily, they were shot down
from loop-holes which had been left in the hut. The hawks which prey upon
doves and hares, the crows and magpies, can thus easily be decimated.

We had learned to use our guns in the playground. The utmost caution was
enforced, and although, as I have already remarked, we handled our own
guns when we were only lads of twelve years old, I can not recall a
single accident which occurred.

Once, during the summer, there was a Schutzenfest, in which a large
wooden eagle was shot from the pole. Whoever brought down the last
splinter became king. This honour once fell to my share, and I was
permitted to choose a queen. I crowned Marie Breimann, a pretty, slender
young girl from Brunswick, whose Greek profile and thick silken hair had
captivated my fancy. She and Adelheid Barop, the head-master's daughter,
were taught in our classes, but Marie attracted me more strongly than the
diligent Keilhau lassies with their beautiful black eyes and the other
two blooming and graceful Westphalian girls who were also schoolmates.
But the girls occupied a very small place in our lives. They could
neither wrestle, shoot, nor climb, so we gave them little thought, and
anything like actual flirtation was unknown--we had so many better things
in our heads. Wrestling and other sports threw everything else into the
shade. Pretty Marie, however, probably suspected which of my school-mates
I liked best, and up to the time of my leaving the institute I allowed no
other goddess to rival her. But there were plenty of amusements at
Keilhau besides bird-shooting.

I will mention the principal ones which came during the year, for to
describe them in regular order would be impossible.

Of the longer walks which we took in the spring and summer the most
beautiful was the one leading through Blankenburg to the entrance of the
Schwarzathal, and thence through the lofty, majestically formed group of
cliffs at whose foot the clear, swift Schwarza flows, dashing and
foaming, to Schwarzburg.

How clearly our songs echoed from the granite walls of the river valley,
and how lively it always was at "The Stag," whose landlord possessed a
certain power of attraction to us boys in his own person; for, as the
stoutest man in Thuringia, he was a feast for the eyes! His jollity
equalled his corpulence, and how merrily he used to jest with us lads!

Of the shorter expeditions I will mention only the two we took most
frequently, which led us in less than an hour to Blankenburg or
Greifenstein, a large ruin, many parts of which were in tolerable
preservation. It had been the home of Count Gunther von Schwarzburg, who
paid with his life for the honour of wearing the German imperial crown a
few short months.

We also enjoyed being sent to the little town of Blankenburg on errands,
for it was the home of our drawing-master, the artist Unger, one of those
original characters whom we rarely meet now. When we knew him, the
handsome, broad-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 overnight. But
I thought this would not be allowable, and, armed with an umbrella, I set
off along the road, with which I was perfectly familiar.

But the storm soon burst, and it grew so dark that, except when the
lightning flashed, I could not see my hand before my face. Yet on I went,
though wondering that the path along which I groped my way led upward,
until the lightning showed me that, by mistake, I had taken the road to
Greifenstein. I turned back, and while feeling my way through the gloom
the earth seemed to vanish under my feet, and I plunged headlong into a
viewless gulf--not through empty space, however, but a wet, tangled mass
which beat against my face, until at last there was a jerk which shook me
from head to foot.

I no longer fell, but I heard above me the sound of something tearing,
and the thought darted through my mind that I was hanging by my trousers.
Groping around, I found vine-leaves, branches, and lattice-work, to which
I clung, and tearing away with my foot the cloth which had caught on the
end of a lath, I again brought my head where it should be, and discovered
that I was hanging on a vine-clad wall. A flash of lightning showed me
the ground not very far below and, by the help of the espalier and the
vines I at last stood in a garden.

Almost by a miracle I escaped with a few scratches; but when I afterwards
went to look at the scene of this disaster cold chills ran down my back,
for half the distance whence I plunged into the garden would have been
enough to break my neck.

Our games were similar to those which lads of the same age play now, but
there were some additional ones that could only take place in a wooded
mountain valley like Keilhau; such, for instance, were our Indian games,
which engrossed us at the time when we were pleased with Cooper's
"Leather-Stocking," but I need not describe them.

When I was one of the older pupils a party of us surprised some
"Panzen"--as we called the younger ones--one hot afternoon engaged in a
very singular game of their own invention. They had undressed to the skin
in the midst of the thickest woods and were performing Paradise and the
Fall of Man, as they had probably just been taught in their religious
lesson. For the expulsion of Adam and our universal mother Eve, the
angel--in this case there were two of them--used, instead of the flaming
sword, stout hazel rods, with which they performed their part of warders
so overzealously that a quarrel followed, which we older ones stopped.

Thus many bands of pupils invented games of their own, but, thank Heaven,
rarely devised such absurdities. Our later Homeric battles any teacher
would have witnessed with pleasure. Froebel would have greeted them as
signs of creative imagination and "individual life" in the boys.




CHAPTER XV.

SUMMER PLEASURES AND RAMBLES

Wholly unlike these, genuinely and solely a product of Keilhau, was the
great battle-game which we called Bergwacht, one of my brightest memories
of those years.

Long preparations were needed, and these, too, were delightful.

On the wooded plain at the summit of the Kolm, a mountain which belonged
mainly to the institute, war was waged during the summer every Saturday
evening until far into the night, whenever the weather was fine, which
does not happen too often in Thuringia.

The whole body of pupils was divided into three, afterwards into four
sections, each of which had its own citadel. After two had declared war
against two others, the battle raged until one party captured the
strongholds of the other. This was done as soon as a combatant had set
foot on the hearth of a hostile fortress.

The battle itself was fought with stakes blunted at the tops. Every one
touched by the weapon of an enemy must declare himself a prisoner. To
admit this, whenever it happened, was a point of honour.

In order to keep all the combatants in action, a fourth division was
added soon after our arrival, and of course it was necessary to build a
strong hold like the others. This consisted of a hut with a stone roof,
in which fifteen or twenty boys could easily find room and rest, a strong
wall which protected us up to our foreheads, and surrounded the front of
the citadel in a semicircle, as well as a large altar-like hearth which
rose in the midst of the semicircular space surrounded by the wall.

We built this fortress ourselves, except that our teacher of handicrafts,
the sapper Sabum, sometimes gave us a hint. The first thing was to mark
out the plan, then with the aid of levers pry the rocks out of the
fields, and by means of a two-wheeled cart convey them to the site
chosen, fit them neatly together, stuff the interstices with moss, and
finally put on a roof made of pine logs which we felled ourselves, earth,
moss, and branches.

How quickly we learned to use the plummet, take levels, hew the stone,
wield the axes! And what a delight it was when the work was finished and
we saw our own building! Perhaps we might not have accomplished it
without the sapper, but every boy believed that if he were cast, like
Robinson Crusoe, on a desert island, he could build a hut of his own.

As soon as this citadel was completed, preparations for the impending
battle were made. The walls and encircling walls of all were prepared,
and we were drilled in the use of the poles. This, too, afforded us the
utmost pleasure. Touching the head of an enemy was strictly prohibited;
yet many a slight wound was given while fighting in the gloom of the
woods.

Each of the four Bergwachts had its leader. The captain of the first was
director of the whole game, and instead of a lance wore a rapier. I
considered it a great honour when this dignity was conferred on me. One
of its consequences was that my portrait was sketched by "Old Unger" in
the so-called "Bergwacht Book," which contained the likenesses of all my
predecessors.

During the summer months all eyes, even as early as Thursday, were
watching the weather. When Saturday evening proved pleasant and Barop had
given his consent, there was great rejoicing in the institute, and the
morning hours must have yielded the teachers little satisfaction.

Directly after dinner everybody seized his pole and the other "Bergwacht"
equipments. The alliances were formed under the captain's guidance. We
will say that the contest was to begin with the first and third Bergwacht
pitted against the second and fourth, and be followed by another, with
the first and second against the third and fourth.

We assembled in the court-yard just before sunset. Barop made a little
speech, exhorting us to fight steadily, and especially to observe all the
rules and yield ourselves captives as soon as an enemy's pole touched us.
He never neglected on these occasions to admonish us that, should our
native land ever need the armed aid of her sons, we should march to
battle as joyously as we now did to the Bergwacht, which was to train us
to skill in her defence.

Then the procession set off in good order, four or six pupils harnessing
themselves voluntarily to the cart in which the kegs of beer were dragged
up the Kolm. Off we went, singing merrily, and at the top the women were
waiting for us with a lunch. Then the warriors scattered, the fire was
lighted on every hearth, the plan of battle was discussed, some were sent
out to reconnoitre, others kept to defend the citadel.

At last the conflict began. Could I ever forget the scenes in the forest!
No Indian tribe on the war-path ever strained every sense more keenly to
watch, surround, and surprise the foe. And the hand-to-hand fray! What
delight it was to burst from the shelter of the thicket and touch with
our poles two, three, or four of the surprised enemies ere they thought
of defence! And what self-denial it required when--spite of the most
skilful parry--we felt the touch of the pole, to confess it, and be led
off as a prisoner!

Voices and shouts echoed through the woods, and the glare of five fires
pierced the darkness--five--for flames were also blazing where the women
were cooking the supper. But the light was brightest, the shouts of the
combatants were loudest, in the vicinity of the forts. The effort of the
besiegers was to spy out unguarded places, and occupy the attention of
the garrison so that a comrade might leap over the wall and set his foot
on the hearth. The object of the garrison was to prevent this.

What was that? An exulting cry rang through the night air. A warrior had
succeeded in penetrating the hostile citadel untouched and setting his
foot on the hearth!

Two or three times we enjoyed the delight of battle; and when towards
midnight it closed, we threw ourselves-glowing from the strife and
blackened by the smoke of the hearth-fires-down on the greensward around
the women's fire, where boiled eggs and other good things were served,
and meanwhile the mugs of foaming beer were passed around the circle. One
patriotic song after another was sung, and at last each Bergwacht
withdrew to its citadel and lay down on the moss to sleep under the
sheltering roof. Two sentinels marched up and down, relieved every half
hour until the early dawn of the summer Sunday brightened the eastern
sky.

Then "Huup!"--the Keilhau shout which summoned us back to the
institute-rang out, and a hymn, the march back, a bath in the pond, and
finally the most delicious rest, if good luck permitted, on the heaps of
hay which had not been gathered in. On the Sunday following the Bergwacht
we were not required to attend church, where we should merely have gone
to sleep. Barop, though usually very strict in the observance of
religious duties, never demanded anything for the sake of mere
appearances.

And the bed of my own planning! It consisted of wood and stones, and was
covered with a thick layer of moss, raised at the head in a slanting
direction. It looked like other beds, but the place where it stood
requires some description, for it was a Keilhau specialty, a favour
bestowed by our teachers on the pupils.

Midway up the slope of the Kolm where our citadels stood, on the side
facing the institute, each boy had a piece of ground where he might
build, dig, or plant, as he chose. They descended from one to another:
Ludo's and mine had come down from Martin and another pupil who left the
school at the same time. But I was not satisfied with what my
predecessors had created. I spared the beautiful vine which twined around
a fir-tree, but in the place of a flower-bed and a bench which I found
there Ludo and I built a hearth, and for myself the bed already
mentioned, which my brother of course was permitted to occupy with me.

How many hours I have spent on its soft cushions, reading or dreaming or
imagining things! If I could only remember them as they hovered before
me, what epics and tales I could write!

No doubt we ought to be grateful to God for this as well as for so many
other blessings; but why are we permitted to be young only once in our
lives, only once to be borne aloft on the wings of a tireless power of
imagination, so easily satisfied with ourselves, so full of love, faith,
and hope, so open to every joy and so blind to every care and doubt, and
everything which threatens to cloud and extinguish the sunlight in the
soul?

Dear bed in my plot of ground at Keilhau, you ought, in accordance with a
remark of Barop, to cause me serious self-examination, for he said,
probably with no thought of my mossy couch, "From the way in which the
pupils use their plots of ground and the things they place in them, I can
form a very correct opinion of their dispositions and tastes." But you,
beloved couch, should have the best place in my garden if you could
restore me but for one half hour the dreams which visited me on your
grey-green pillows, when I was a lad of fourteen or fifteen.

I have passed over the Rudolstadt Schutzenfest, its music, its
merry-go-round, and the capital sausages cooked in the open air, and have
intentionally omitted many other delightful things. I cannot help
wondering now where we found time for all these summer pleasures.

True, with the exception of a few days at Whitsuntide, we had no vacation
from Easter until the first of September. But even in August one thought,
one joyous anticipation, filled every heart. The annual autumn excursion
was coming!

After we were divided into travelling parties and had ascertained which
teacher was to accompany us--a matter that seemed very important--we
diligently practised the most beautiful songs; and on many an evening
Barop or Middendorf told us of the places through which we were to pass,
their history, and the legends which were associated with them. They were
aided in this by one of the sub-teachers, Bagge, a poetically gifted
young clergyman, who possessed great personal beauty and a heart capable
of entering into the intellectual life of the boys who were entrusted to
his care.

He instructed us in the German language and literature. Possibly because
he thought that he discovered in me a talent for poetic expression, he
showed me unusual favor, even read his own verses aloud to me, and set me
special tasks in verse-writing, which he criticised with me when I had
finished. The first long poem I wrote of my own impulse was a description
of the wonderful forms assumed by the stalactite formations in the Sophie
Cave in Switzerland, which we had visited. Unfortunately, the book
containing it is lost, but I remember the following lines, referring to
the industrious sprites which I imagined as the sculptors of the wondrous
shapes:

"Priestly robes and a high altar the sprites created here,
And in the rock-hewn cauldron poured the holy water clear,
Within whose depths reflected, by the torches' flickering rays,
Beneath the surface glimmering my own face met my gaze;
And when I thus beheld it, so small it seemed to me,
That yonder stone-carved giant looked on with mocking glee.
Ay, laugh, if that's your pleasure, Goliath huge and old,
I soon shall fare forth singing, you still your place must hold."

Another sub-teacher was also a favourite travelling-companion. His name
was Schaffner, and he, too, with his thick, black beard, was a handsome
man. To those pupils who, like my brother Ludo, were pursuing the study
of the sciences, he, the mathematician of the institute, must have been
an unusually clear and competent teacher. I was under his charge only a
short time, and his branch of knowledge was unfortunately my weak point.
Shortly before my departure he married a younger sister of Barop's wife,
and established an educational institution very similar to Keilhau at
Gumperda, at Schwarza in Thuringia.

Herr Vodoz, our French teacher, a cheery, vigorous Swiss, with a perfect
forest of curls on his head, was also one of the most popular guides; and
so was Dr. Budstedt, who gave instruction in the classics. He was not a
handsome man, but he deserved the name of "anima candida." He used to
storm at the slightest occasion, but he was quickly appeased again. As a
teacher I think he did his full duty, but I no longer remember anything
about his methods.

The travelling party which Barop accompanied were very proud of the
honour. Middendorf's age permitted him to go only with the youngest
pupils, who made the shortest trips.

These excursions led the little boys into the Thuringian Forest, the
Hartz Mountains, Saxony and Bohemia, Nuremberg and Wurzburg, and the
older ones by way of Baireuth and Regensburg to Ulm. The large boys in
the first travelling party, which was usually headed by Barop himself,
extended their journey as far as Switzerland.

I visited in after-years nearly all the places to which we went at that
time, and some, with which important events in my life were associated, I
shall mention later. It would not be easy to reproduce from memory the
first impressions received without mingling with them more recent ones.

Thus, I well remember how Nuremberg affected me and how much it pleased
me. I express this in my description of the journey; but in the author of
Gred, who often sought this delightful city, and made himself familiar
with life there in the days of its mediaval prosperity, these childish
impressions became something wholly new. And yet they are inseparable
from the conception and contents of the Nuremberg novel.

My mother kept the old books containing the accounts of these excursions,
which occupied from two to three weeks, and they possessed a certain
interest for me, principally because they proved how skilfully our
teachers understood how to carry out Froebel's principles on these
occasions. Our records of travel also explain in detail what this
educator meant by the words "unity with life"; for our attention was
directed not only to beautiful views or magnificent works of art and
architecture, but to noteworthy public institutions or great
manufactories. Our teachers took the utmost care that we should
understand what we saw.

The cultivation of the fields, the building of the peasants' huts, the
national costumes, were all brought under our notice, thus making us
familiar with life outside of the school, and opening our eyes to things
concerning which the pupil of an ordinary model grammar-school rarely
inquires, yet which are of great importance to the world to which we
belong.

Our material life was sensibly arranged. During the rest at noon a cold