ch wind dashes among the houses; and what is better
than all, the fresh mornings are growing brighter and longer with every
returning sun.

Away, then, out of the old city, alone on the flat, sandy road that lies
between Hamburg and Berlin. Here we are, with hope before us, resolution
spurring us on, and a twenty-eight pound knapsack on our backs. Tighten
the straps, my friend, and you will walk easier with your load.

My journey as a workman on the tramp from Hamburg to Berlin I propose to
tell, as simply as I can. I have no great adventures to describe, but I
desire to illustrate some part of what has already been said about the
workmen in Germany, and I can do this best by relating, just as it was, a
small part of my own road experience, neither more nor less wonderful
than the experience which is every day common to thousands of Germans.

I was very poor when I set out from Hamburg in the month of March, with
my knapsack strapped to my back, my stick in my hand, and my bottle of
strong comfort slung about my neck after the manner of a locket. I was
not poor in my own conceit, for I had in my fob--the safest pocket for so
large a sum of money--two gold ducats and some Prussian dollars: English
money, thirty-five shillings. I thought I was a proper fellow with that
quantity of ready cash upon my person, and a six weeks' beard on my chin.

Many adieus had been spoken in Hamburg at our last night's revel, but a
Danish friend was up betimes to see me out of town. At length he also
bade the wanderer farewell, and for the comfort of us both my locket
having passed from hand to hand, he left me to tramp on alone, over the
dull, flat, sandy road. There was scarcely a tree to be seen, and the
sky looked like a heavy sheet of lead, but I stepped out boldly and made
steady progress. The road got to be worse; I came among deep ruts and
treacherous sloughs, and the fields on each side of the road were
flooded. In some parts the road was a sand swamp, and the walk became
converted into a gymnastic exercise; a leaping about towards what seemed
the hard and knobby places that appeared among the mud. This exercise
soon made me conscious of the knapsack, to which I was then not
thoroughly accustomed. It was not so much the weight that I felt, but
the tightness of the belt across the chest, which caused pain and
impediment of breathing. Custom, however, caused the knapsack to become
even an aid to me in walking.

A stur