_Hotel Landsberg, Frankfurt, Monday, 29th July 1872._
... Last night I met with rather an amusing adventurette. Seeing a
church door open, I went in, and was led by most importunate
finger-bills up a long stair to the top of the tower. The father smoking
at the door, the mother and the three daughters received me as if I was
a friend of the family and had come in for an evening visit. The
youngest daughter (about thirteen, I suppose, and a pretty little girl)
had been learning English at the school, and was anxious to play it off
upon a real, veritable Englander; so we had a long talk, and I was shown
photographs, etc., Marie and I talking, and the others looking on with
evident delight at having such a linguist in the family. As all my
remarks were duly translated and communicated to the rest, it was quite
a good German lesson. There was only one contretemps during the whole
interview--the arrival of another visitor, in the shape (surely) the
last of God's creatures, a wood-worm of the most unnatural and hideous
appearance, with one great striped horn sticking out of his nose like a
boltsprit. If there are many wood-worms in Germany, I shall come home.
The most courageous men in the world must be entomologists. I had rather
be a lion-tamer.
To-day I got rather a curiosity--_Lieder und Balladen von Robert Burns_,
translated by one Silbergleit, and not so ill done either. Armed with
which, I had a swim in the Main, and then bread and cheese and Bavarian
beer in a sort of cafe, or at least the German substitute for a cafe;
but what a falling off after the heavenly forenoons in Brussels!
I have bought a meerschaum out of local sentiment, and am now very low
and nervous about the bargain, having paid dearer than I should in
England, and got a worse article, if I can form a judgment.
Do write some more, somebody. To-morrow I expect I shall go into
lodgings, as this hotel work makes the money disappear like butter in a
furnace.--Meanwhile believe me, ever your affectionate son,