hen, and even the
graves of Dr. Melchior and his beautiful wife Bianca have disappeared,
owing to the removal of the burying-ground.

On the other hand the portrait in red crayon of Frau Bianca and the
little Zeno is still carefully preserved as a most precious heirloom, and
was the picture that inspired my sainted father with the desire to become
an artist.

Our forebear Dr. Melchior devoted the best of his energies to the
benefit, as he thought, of his race, perhaps indeed of all mankind, and
yet his efforts were unavailing, for to my sorrow must I acknowledge that
much of the enmity felt towards our family, and the disrepute into which
our good old name fell, was caused by the elixir. The majority of
Ueberhells were accused of presumption and arrogance, of opiniativeness
and pugnacity. Many had made themselves disagreeable to their neighbours
by their caustic criticisms and ill-natured complaints, at the same time
bringing misfortune upon themselves by a most curious exhibition of their
own faults.

The whole race degenerated so rapidly through their unbridled license and
lack of consideration for others, that they ceased to be received by the
members of the better circles, and there came to be an offensive saying
that in Leipsic there were men, women, and Ueberhells.

This dislike and animosity were visited upon one generation after another
until finally it affected the worldly prosperity of the family. Even The
Three Kings in the Katharinenstrasse which, by the way, had long ceased
to be known by that name, was lost to us, and so remained for many years
until my sainted father recovered it again, and that the Ueberhells did
not fall into even greater distress was due largely to the timidity, nay
absolute terror, with which they inspired many people.

From several of my relatives--and they without exception made use of the
elixir when they received it on their twenty fifth birthday--I have heard
many particulars concerning the experience, but there was only one who
ever said that he had been happier and more contented because of it, and
that was my sainted father, the painter, Johannes Ueberhell.

He lost his father very early, and was brought up and educated in poverty
and distress by his good mother who remained a widow. It was she who sold
the last of the jewels and plate that had come down to her from earlier
and more prosperous days, in order to make it possible for Johannes to go
to Dresden and study und