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They look surprised here when I order a second armful
of wood for the monument. Proper enough, for I find that
one small armful, if it be good brisk burning wood, heats
the entire monument, and it stays hot for 6 hours—a more
economical stove than exists elsewhere in the world, per-
haps. No wonder it has held its own for several hundred
years.

A fire was made in our monument at 11:30 this morn-
ing. It is now 7 P.M. and I cannot bear my hand on the
lower part of it. The room has been uncomfortably warm
all the time, and is yet. It is not cold weather, but with
no fire the room is quite uncomfortable—chilly.

A little later, however, he was out of sym-
pathy with the monument, and wrote,

How we miss our big wood fires, these raw cold days
in the end of May. In all this region, I suppose they've
nothing but their close stoves, which warm gradually
and then stink and swelter for hours. It is the same vile
atmosphere which a furnace has which has no cold air
box and so heats and reheats the same air.

John Hay, attempting German with a stranger all day,
on a diligence—finally stranger, after trying for 20 min-
utes to form a sentence, said, "Oh, God damn the
language!" Hay—embracing him, "Bless my soul you
speak English!"

Some of the German words are so long that they have
a perspective. When one casts his glance along down one
of these it gradually tapers to a point, like the receding
lines of a railway track.

Clara (Spaulding) reading in the sun in the castle
grounds:—fine old gentleman hesitated, passed on, came
back and said he must tell her she was injuring her eyes.

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