visited me, in the hope I might at length make out what it meant.

And are the duties attached to your office very arduous?' I asked.

'Oh no! By no means arduous.' 'Little, perhaps, beyond wearing the government cap?'

'Well, not much more,' replied he, smiling.

'I hope your government pays you well for holding the appointment.'

The salary is very small indeed; but I hope to find it increase as I rise in the office.'

Under the combined action of his fingers and his tongue-for he was a great talker-I was rendered proof against any inclination to snooze without the effort, which all know is a most painful one, of fighting against sleepiness; and the next part of the programme in my case as a Kurgast was to set off regularly for a good stretch, ' a constitutional,' of a couple of hours or so; and of all places under the sun, if only you don't mind its stillness, Wildbad stands approached by very few localities as regards the beauty and variety of its walks. For some miles round the grounds are carefully and tastefully laid out for the comfort and enjoyment of the walking visitors. There is the pathway by the rapid river (the Enz), or the shady track between the fir-trees up the steep hill-side, or the open level road for you to choose from; while each, at intervals of a hundred yards or so, is supplied with easy benches whereon the weary or the weak may rest and contemplate. If you select one of the forest-paths you should certainly adopt the precaution of providing yourself with a pocket-compass, otherwise the chances are you will get hopelessly bewildered in the mazes of the Schwarzwald; and to be benighted in its 'blackness' amongst the polecats and the badgers, though no doubt a diversion, is one of which the enjoyment might be a question. Klumpp told me that walking-parties frequently lost their way in the woods, and that on more occasions than one he had been obliged to send out scouts with horns and dogs

in quest of some walking wanderers whose long absence had given cause for anxiety. For my part, however, I confess I pity those who, while at Wildbad, are destitute of walking powers. What those must undergo who cannot get about and enjoy the solitary outlet which the place affords is dismal to contemplate. Here are no shop-windows to peer into from your chair, no club or reading-room to lounge in, no kursaal by way of a rendezvous for idle hours; all you can do is bathe and walk, walk and bathe; and if you are unable to walk, why you must bathe only, bewailing your woes in the interim until it is time to bathe again. But, while on the subject of walking, I must here mention a rather eccentric, though most agreeable, addition to the list of Kurgasts that made his appearance while I was there. This was a Count -we won't mind names-he was a Pole, and I struck up quite an intimacy with him. We had been apprised of his expected advent some days previously; and our landlord having informed us that he was coming with his 'retinue,' we expected, to use a slang term, rather aswell' in the new comer.

The travelling-carriage-a hired one-accordingly drew up in due course at the Bear,' and the eyes of most of the inmates, my own inIcluded, were all intent upon the unlading voiture, conjecturing the while where might be disposed the retinue.' A man in livery dismounted from his seat beside the cocher, and then from the inside there alighted two, and only two, gentlemen. Which is the Count and which is the retinue?' was the instantaneous and not unnatural question. It appeared that the small party of three included Herr Graf, retinue and all, the suite consisting merely of the count's doctor and his valet. The count himself was a dapper, shortish man of about five-and-forty, particularly brisk and talkative, and immediately at home with every one he came across; but of the two, the doctor looked much more the invalid; tall, pale, and thin, with a peculiar look of delicacy on his countenance, his

seemed a case for baths, or other restoratives of some sort, far more than the lively gentleman he was supposed to have the charge of.

According to his own account, the sufferings of the latter were not acute, but a constant sensation, as he described it, of du sablon dans le soulier worried, he said, his very life out, and drove him to the Wildbad springs. From his never parting for a moment from his doctor, I fancied at first there might be a screw loose in the upper story; but I soon found he was as sane as any man need be, possessing, too, an unusual amount of that uncommon thing called common sense.

Ho

was one of those men one sometimes meets abroad who, though probably not knowing a syllable of Greek or Latin, had mastered several living languages besides his own, speaking, in addition to Polish, German, French, and Italian, and understanding English as he read it into the bargain. He was also an accomplished man, could play and sing admirably, was a first-rate fencer, draughtsman, &c., while as a companion he was so full of wit and anecdote that he soon became an immense favourite at Klumpp's. He had, however, one dominant propensity, which, whether the result of habit or the mere symptom of a restless disposition I could not tell, but the man was for ever on the walk; he seemed, in fact, possessed with a sort of perambulating mania, and the miles of ground he must have traversed during his stay at Wildbad might have been computed at some hundreds. Regularly twice a day would he turn out with his medical attendant for an extensive stretch of some hours' length, the unfortunate doctor appearing on his return oftentimes the picture of exhaustion, while the count would seem quite fresh and ready for another start. I remember how we pitied the former from our inmost souls, and trusted he was well paid for this painful tax upon his nerve and muscle, while the speedy breaking down of his slender frame under these forced marches was predicted by us all in unison. But even when in doors the count was not at rest;

for no sooner would he come into his room than off he would set again, pacing up and down like a panther in a cage, and maintaining all the while an animated conversation with the exhausted doctor, who might at intervals be heard languidly returning his monosyllabic answers. I occupied the adjoining chamber, and could not well help being cognizant of the count's peculiarities, for a door, always locked, led from my room into his, which, though under certain circumstances might have been a great convenience, I found, with my restless neighbour, the reverse of an accommodation. The first sounds wherewith my ears were greeted in the morning, and the last I overheard at night, were the count's footsteps as he paced his pointless journey; and often in the dead of night, when all else was still and silent, have I lain awake listening to the same monotonous tramp, tramp, the uneasy man availing himself of the intervals between his slumbers to indulge his restless propensity. This habit of excessive walking he persisted in all the while I was at Wildbad; and I remember well, amongst the last objects I caught sight of from my voiture as I left the place was the indefatigable count striding vigorously up a steep hill-road, with his medical companion, as usual, a pace or two behind him. This same Pole was a great patriot, and wont to wax very warm upon the subject of his country's wrongs; but some years after, taking up the "Times' one morning during the period of the insurrection I lit upon a paragraph running somewhat to this effect: There has been another engagement between the Russians and the Poles near the town of and one of some importance to the former from their having succeeded in capturing and killing a Count one of the ablest and most efficient of the Polish leaders. It would seem that through an act of treachery he had been enticed with a handful of followers into an ambuscade, when the Russians, after their manner, put every man of them to death.'

It made me very sad as I read

this account of the death of poor Count

Whether by dint of bathing, the generous diet at the Bear,' or the invigorating air of Wildbad, I picked up rapidly, and after about a fortnight's stay, had grown so strong that I readily assented to a proposition of Klumpp for a day's sport in the Black Forest. The Black Forest abounds with game of all sorts, furry as well as feathered, and leave is easily obtained to bag as much of it as you can. As, however, I was told that the sport which the caper keiley, or cock of the wood, afforded threw every other kind into the shade, it was agreed that we should lay ourselves out for it exclusively, and for the first few hours, at any rate, not expend powder and shot on any other kind of game.

Now the caper keiley is particuBarly wild and shy of man, and to get a shot at him at all—at least in that neighbourhood-you have to go to work right warily. The easy, luxurious plan of the English sportsman, of starting off when breakfast has comfortably gone down, and lounging through the turnips or the stubble in the brightest part of the day, is something very different from the effort you must make if you have a design upon the caper keiley. Long ere dawn of day you have to hie away into the densest and most retired parts of the forest, before these birds are yet astir, and there await in quiet the first gleams of twilight, when they begin to feed.

The clock had just struck two, when Klumpp and I, each armed with a rifle, turned out into the darkness in order to get a start of the eaper keileys. The Forest looked particularly Black,' I thought, that morning as we entered it, and a slight breeze stirring, which caused the pine-tops to give forth that sound peculiar to them, between a whistle and a murmur, increased the dreariness of the adventure. I could not see my way a bit; but Klumpp, who appeared to have cat's eyes, led the way, while I, stumbling and tripping at every step, followed him as best I could.

A faint light was just beginning

to show overhead, when my guide ordered a halt, for which I was not sorry; and forthwith, with as little noise as possible, we commenced loading our pieces. As we stood and listened, we heard all sorts of wild sounds, all equally strange to me, but which Klumpp interpreted, naming instantly the bird or beast to which the sound belonged: but there was one most peculiar, and quite distinct from all the rest, which he affirmed to be the note of the bird we were in quest of. It was a prolonged strain, made up of a variety of tones, sustained so long that the creature must fain have had good lungs that gave it forth.

'He lies over there,' said Klumpp. 'Stop! wait till we hear him again.'

At the interval of a minute or two the notes were repeated from the same quarter, so I was for starting off at once.

No! stop!' said Klumpp again; 'we shall lose him if you don't wait a second. Now then, come on; come quickly "'

He dashed off, I following, but he soon stopped again quite abruptly. 'What on earth is the matter?' I exclaimed; the bird is over there.' 'Hush!' replied my companion, in a whisper; we have to wait for a certain note; it is only during those moments that the caper keiley will allow himself to be approached.'

I learned a very curious fact on that occasion touching this singular bird. It would seem that, being inordinately shy, and gifted with a wonderfully acute sense of hearing, he presents during his song-if his note will bear the name -an opportunity for the sportsman to get close up to him. After giving forth a series of harsh, guttural sounds, his strain suddenly changes, and you hear a sort of 'Flo-p, flo-p, flo-p.' Now, as soon as this flo-p' begins, the bird falls into a kind of swoon; his eyes close, his head is slightly thrown back; he loses for the moment all consciousness of what is passing, and you can get as near him as you please. It is even said that, during the few seconds that the swoon lasts, you might take him up in your hands and do any mortal thing with

on this memorable morning, to hold his father's hand nervously as he sits awaiting the fatal hour in the hotel saloon. The first twinges of that nauseous disease, home-sickness, have come over him, and betray themselves in his 'pallored visage.' But he sees other embryo freshmen hanging about the hotel as forlorn, as puny, as innocent, as verdant as himself, 'screwing themselves to the sticking point,' and is somewhat consoled; for even freshman misery loves company. Barnley, senior, relieves him still further by continually whispering in his ear the stale, but ever grateful, praises of the good clergyman at home. The hour arrived, he marches with a bravely firm step into the great hall where his companions in the examination are assembling, and where weazen, spectacled professors, and stiff, solemn tutors are preparing for the business of the day. There are little single desks sprinkled about the hall, and along the walls are higher desks for the professors and instructors. Bobbie is assigned his desk, and presently a tutor comes along, and places a printed paper before him. Bobbie takes it up, looks at it, reads the questions nervously through, and at once makes up his mind that there is not one which he can answer. However, he concludes, after a brief moment, devoted to the very depths of silent but harrowing despair, to read them over once more. Then he, becomes cool enough to try to write down the answers. He finally finishes the answers, reads them over, thinks they are right, but is haunted thenceforth till the end of the examination, with a fear that they may be wrong. So it is with all the papers; so it is on the second and final day of the examination, he not sleeping a wink during the intervening night. Unutterable is the joy that fills his breast-fully compensating him for the two days' misery he has endured-when he is told by a long tutor, with squinting eyes and shaggy hair (whom he dreaded as a monster during the examination, but whom he now adores henceforth), that his papers are satisfactory, and that his name

a

has been entered on the freshman's roll as passed.' He hastens to make papa a sharer in his delight, and the next morning papa struts off down to the station, the veriest human peacock in the town, absolutely certain now that there's nobody in the university quite the equal of his darling Bobbie. When night has shed her sable mantle o'er the world, and the hope of the Barnleys sits lonely in his, as yet, half-furnished college " den ground-floor room, he being 'fresh' -the excitements of the two past days are forgotten, the glory of being really and truly a college man has become faint and stale, and the mother's joy and the father's pride has sunk into the unspeakablo miseries of home-sickness. He feels exactly the sense of desolation which, the novelists give us to understand, falls peculiarly to the lot of the jilted lover; he verily believes he can never smile again. Though he has yet many ordeals, especial to the freshman, to pass through, it is doubtful whether he will feel a pang half as sharp as in this yearning to see home once more.

Before he has been in the university many weeks-just as he is getting settled down, and acquainted with his classmates, and the homesickness is beginning to wear off somewhat-he becomes a martyr to a certain time-honoured custom called Freshman Initiation.' The academic course in American universities occupies four years; there are therefore four classes-the Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior. At Yale there flourish in each of the classes several secret societies, invested with a great deal of mystery, to gain entrance to which is, of course, an object of ambition with all new comers. The freshmen enter the freshman secret societies, in which they continue as active members during their freshman year; when they become 'Sophs,' they leave the freshman societies and become honorary members of them, and if they gain admittance, they then join the Sophomore societies as active participants-and so on through the course. These secret societies hire rooms in some un

frequented part of the town, and there hold weekly meetings; some of them are jovial, others literary, in their objects. Each society has for its badge a little gold breast-pin, bearing mysterious and allegorical symbols. To the young student's mind these secret societies have a great and almost indefinable attraction-curiosity and romance entering largely into the desire to belong to them. They are much more select than the large literary societies before described; they aim less at the victory of numbers; each candidate must receive a nearly unanimous vote before being admitted; and the effort is made by each society to obtain the greatest number of good fellows, scholars, writers, and speakers of a class. It is these societies which create that excitement of college politics,' which is so marked a feature of Yale university life, and which we will describe hereafter. When a new freshman class enters the university, the outgoing members of the freshman secret societies set to work to 'pledge' all the most promising-looking of the new comers; and in a short time perhaps twothirds of the freshmen have 'gone' (that is, promised to join) to one or other of the mysterious fraternities. When the society lists are pleted, preparations are made for the great orgy called Freshman Initiation.' All the freshman societies combine for the purpose of initiating their new members in common, and in public; of course this initiation does not involve the making public any of the supposed terrible secrets of any of the fraternities. 'Freshman Initiation' usually takes place on a night late in September or early in October, in the basement of the Connecticut State

com

ceremony, all the freshmen who are of the elect' are notified that at ten o'clock that evening, they will be waited upon and conducted to the ordeal. The tremors of the victims during that day may be imagined; awful stories have already reached their ears of the doings of the night; and as the time approaches, their fears increase, and the suspense of uncertainty adds to the discomfort of their situation. Promptly at ten, as our freshman sits quaking, making a feeble pretence of poring over his big Greek dictionary, three heavy, ominous raps sound upon his door; and immediately after two mysterious forms, cloaked and black-masked, enter his room with little ceremony. They approach the victim, and laying their hands on his shoulder, ask him in deep, terrific tones if he is ready. Having received his stuttering reply, they proceed to hoodwink him, first commanding him to carry his purse with him. Each takes him by one arm, and he is marched off into the street. He is not carried directly to the grand rendezvous, but has to pass through various preliminary trials, according to the inventive powers or caprice of his conductors. Some will lead the blindfolded freshman up to the door of a private mansion, place him opposite it, ring the bell, and leaving him there -he being entirely unconscious where he is-dodge around the corner, and watch the scene. When Biddy answers the bell, she finds herself face to face with this hoodwinked figure, and the ensuing colloquy may be conjectured. Others will make their victim walk a ladder blindfold, or march unconsciously off a hillock-the tricks of this sort are many and various, as the genius of the initiators prompts. After 'trying him' by making a tour of the streets and compelling him to do numerous things, the masked inquisitors usually pull up' at one of the public restaurants frequented by the university students-and they are especially apt to find their way hither if their 'fresh' is known to have plenty of money. The scene at the restaurant on initiation night is a most lively and curious one.