He wrote eager letters, for the time had come when he longed
to get the preparatory work and examination behind him and begin
teaching. We had an instructorship at the University of California
waiting for us, and teaching was to begin in January. In one letter he
wrote: "I now feel like landing on my exam, like a Bulgarian; I am that
fierce to lay it out." We felt more than ever, in those days of work
piling up behind us, that we owned the world; as Carl wrote in another
letter: "We'll stick this out [this being the separation of his last
trip to London, whence he was to start for Heidelberg and his
examination, without another visit with us], for, _Gott sei dank!_ the
time isn't so fearful, fearful long, it isn't really, is it? Gee! I'm
glad I married you. And I want more babies and more you, and then the
whole gang together for about ninety-two years. But life is so fine to
us and we are getting so much love and big things out of life!"

November 1 Carl left London for Heidelberg. He was to take his
examination there December 5, so the month of November was a full one
for him. He stayed with the dear Kecks, Mother Keck pressing and
mending his clothes, hovering over him as if he were her own son. He
wrote once: "To-day we had a small leg of venison which I sneaked in
last night. Every time I note that I burn three quarters of a lampful of
oil a day among the other things I cost them, it makes me feel like
buying out a whole Conditorei."

I lived for those daily letters telling of his progress. Once he wrote:
"Just saw Fleiner [Professor in Law] and he was _fine_, but I must get
his Volkerrecht cold. It is fine reading, and is mighty good and
interesting every word, and also stuff which a man ought to know. This
is the last man to see. From now on, it is only to _study_, and I am
tickled. I do really like to study." A few days later he wrote: "It is
just plain sit and absorb these days. Some day I will explain how tough
it is to learn an entire law subject in five days in a strange tongue."

And then, on the night of December 5, came the telegram of success to
"Frau Dr. Parker." We both knew he would pass, but neither of us was
prepared for the verdict of "_Summa cum laude_," the highest
accomplishment possible. I went up and down the main street of little
Swanage, announcing the tidings right and left. The community all knew
that Carl was in Germany to take some kind of an examination, though it
all seemed rather u