recent association, she added:

"Why, papa, if it keeps on like this, pretty soon there won't be anybody
for you to get acquainted with but God," which Mark Twain decided was
not quite as much of a compliment as it had at first seemed.

It was during the period of his convalescence that Clemens prepared his
sixth letter for the New York Sun and McClure's syndicate, "The German
Chicago," a finely descriptive article on Berlin, and German customs
and institutions generally. Perhaps the best part of it is where he
describes the grand and prolonged celebration which had been given in
honor of Professor Virchow's seventieth birthday.--[Rudolph Virchow, an
eminent German pathologist and anthropologist and scholar; then one
of the most prominent figures of the German Reichstag. He died in
1902.]--He tells how the demonstrations had continued in one form or
another day after day, and merged at last into the seventieth birthday
of Professor Helmholtz--[Herman von Helmholtz, an eminent German
physicist, one of the most distinguished scientists of the nineteenth
century. He died in 1894.]--also how these great affairs finally
culminated in a mighty 'commers', or beer-fest, given in their honor
by a thousand German students. This letter has been published in Mark
Twain's "Complete Works," and is well worth reading to-day. His place
had been at the table of the two heroes of the occasion, Virchow and
Helmholtz, a place where he could see and hear all that went on; and he
was immensely impressed at the honor which Germany paid to her men
of science. The climax came when Mommsen unexpectedly entered the
room.--[Theodor Mommsen (1817-1903), an eminent German historian and
archeologist, a powerful factor in all liberal movements. From 1874-1895
permanent secretary of the Berlin Royal Academy of Sciences.]

There seemed to be some signal whereby the students on the platform
were made aware that a professor had arrived at the remote door of
entrance, for you would see them suddenly rise to their feet, strike
an erect military attitude, then draw their swords; the swords of
all their brethren standing guard at the innumerable tables would
flash from the scabbard and be held aloft--a handsome spectacle.
Three clear bugle-notes would ring out, then all these swords would
come down with a crash, twice repeated, on the tables and be
uplifted and held aloft again; then in the distance you would see
the