most
of his life in Vienna, was a man of exuberant jollity--a man of gold and
a gentleman, even as his wife was a truly gentle lady. As I am very
tall, and detest German small beds, I complained of mine, and Herr Rohn
said he had another, of which I could not complain. And I certainly
could not, for when it came I found it was at least eight feet in length.
It seems that they had once had for a boarder a German baron who was
_more than seven feet_ high, and had had this curiosity constructed; and
Herr Rohn roared with laughter as I gazed on it, and asked if I would
have it lengthened.

We remained in Dresden till February, and found many friends, among whom
there was much pleasant homelike hospitality. Among others were Julian
Hawthorne and sisters, and George Parsons Lathrop. They were young
fellows then, and not so well known as they have since become, but it was
evident enough that they had good work in them. They often came to see
me, and were very kind in many ways. I took lessons in
porcelain-painting, which art I kept up for many years, and was, of
course, assiduous in visiting the galleries, Green Vault, and all works
of art. I became well acquainted with Passavant, the director. I was
getting better, but was still far from being as mentally vigorous as I
had been. I now attribute this to the enormous daily dose of bromide
which I continued to take, probably mistaking its _influence_ for the
original nervous exhaustion itself. It was not indeed till I got to
England, and substituted _lupulin_ in the form of hops--that is to say,
pale ale or "bitter"--in generous doses, that I quite recovered.

So we passed on to Prague, which city, like everything Czech, always had
a strange fascination for me. There I met a certain Mr. Vojtech
Napristek (or Adalbert Thimble), who had once edited in the United States
a Bohemian newspaper with which I had exchanged, and with whom I had
corresponded, but whom I had never before seen. He had established in
Prague, on American lines, a Ladies' Club of two hundred, which we
visited, and was, I believe, owing to an inheritance, now a prosperous
man. Though I am not a Thimble, it also befell me, in later years, to
found and preside over a Ladies' Art Club of two hundred souls. At that
time the famous legendary bridge, with the ancient statue of St. John
Nepomuk, still existed as of yore. No one imagined that a time would
come when they would be washed away through shee