d
from my taxidermist's outfit the old tooth-brush with which I put on
the skins the arsenical soap necessary for their preservation, partially
washed it, and left it with the rest of my wash kit for my own personal
use. I suppose that all growing boys tend to be grubby; but the
ornithological small boy, or indeed the boy with the taste for natural
history of any kind, is generally the very grubbiest of all. An added
element in my case was the fact that while in Egypt I suddenly started
to grow. As there were no tailors up the Nile, when I got back to Cairo
I needed a new outfit. But there was one suit of clothes too good to
throw away, which we kept for a "change," and which was known as my
"Smike suit," because it left my wrists and ankles as bare as those of
poor Smike himself.

When we reached Dresden we younger children were left to spend the
summer in the house of Herr Minckwitz, a member of either the Municipal
or the Saxon Government--I have forgotten which. It was hoped that in
this way we would acquire some knowledge of the German language and
literature. They were the very kindest family imaginable. I shall never
forget the unwearied patience of the two daughters. The father and
mother, and a shy, thin, student cousin who was living in the flat,
were no less kind. Whenever I could get out into the country I collected
specimens industriously and enlivened the household with hedge-hogs
and other small beasts and reptiles which persisted in escaping from
partially closed bureau drawers. The two sons were fascinating students
from the University of Leipsic, both of them belonging to dueling corps,
and much scarred in consequence. One, a famous swordsman, was called
_Der Rothe Herzog_ (the Red Duke), and the other was nicknamed _Herr
Nasehorn_ (Sir Rhinoceros) because the tip of his nose had been cut off
in a duel and sewn on again. I learned a good deal of German here,
in spite of myself, and above all I became fascinated with the
Nibelungenlied. German prose never became really easy to me in the sense
that French prose did, but for German poetry I cared as much as for
English poetry. Above all, I gained an impression of the German people
which I never got over. From that time to this it would have been quite
impossible to make me feel that the Germans were really foreigners.
The affection, the _Gemuthlichkeit_ (a quality which cannot be exactly
expressed by any single English word), the capacity for hard work, t