nice, so gentle, and plays so
wonderfully! Mrs. Ransom was a trifle cool--she and ma never did get
along, you remember that fight about free lager for indigent Germans in
sultry weather?--well, she and ma quarrelled over the meaning of the
word "indigent," and Mrs. R. said that she was indigent at ma's
ignorance; then ma burst into a fit of laughter. I heard her--it was a
real mean laugh, Bella, and--but I must tell you about this place. Dear,
I'm quite out of breath!

Well, the Ransoms took me off to lunch and it was real nice at their
boarding house; they call it the Hotel Serbe, or some such name, and I
almost regretted that I went to the miserable rooms I'm in, but I have
to be economical, and as I intend practising all day and sleeping all
night it doesn't matter much where I am. I forgot to tell you what we
had for lunch, funny dishes, sour and full of red pepper. I'll tell you
all about it in my next letter. I'm so full of Herr Klug that I can't
sit still. He is a grand man, Bella, only very old, and very small, and
very nervous, and very cross. He didn't say much to me and I held my
tongue, for they say he is so nervous that he is almost crazy, besides,
he hates American pupils. When I went into the big lesson room it was
empty, and I had a good chance to look at all the pictures on the wall.
There were Bach, Beethoven and Herr Klug at every age. There must have
been at least thirty portraits. He was homely in every one, and wore his
hair long, and has such a high, noble forehead. You know Chicago men
have such low foreheads. I love high foreheads. They are so _destingue_
(is that spelt right?) and it means such a _lot_ of brains. He was
photographed with Liszt and with Chopin. I think it was Chopin,
and--just then he came in. He walked very slowly and his shoulders were
stooped. Oh, Bella, he has such a venerable look, so saintly! Well, he
stood in the doorway and his eyeglasses fairly stared into me, he has
such piercing gaze. I was scared out of my seven senses and stood stock
still.

"_Nu was!_" he cried out; "where do you come from?" His English was
maddening, Bella, just maddening, but I understood him, and with my
heart in my boots I said:

"Chicago, Herr Klug." He snorted.

"Chicago. I hate Chicago, I hate Americans! There's only one city in
America--that is San Francisco. I was never there, but I like it because
I never had a pupil from that city; that's why I like it, _hein_!" He
laughed, Bella,