At 4 P.M. the professor came to my room, “in order to become better acquainted with his neighbour”; that is, thought I to myself, to pump me too for his own purposes, _de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis_, according to all the rules of the art. And so it proved. He suggested a walk, and I proposed that we should go to the mill on the Aue. We had not gone a hundred yards before he set to work as I had anticipated, with a hardihood which was only equalled by its many-sidedness. Truly a thirst for knowledge of the most naïve kind, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, although it was only two hours since he set eyes on me for the first time. As at lunch, the result was in each instance immediately committed to his pocket book. What a lingual pumping apparatus that was! Now here, now there, sounding and boring, screwing and sucking! First about myself, then as to Bucher, his character as an official and in social life, &c. The Prince’s turn came next, and after him the Princess, the sons, the daughter and the grandchildren. What did I think of Schweninger? How did I like Lange, who, by the way, also took lunch with us; in short, his inquiries, conducted with a peculiar thoroughness and charm, extended to everything upstairs and downstairs, chick and child, _ad infinitum_. I was even expected to give information respecting Baroness Merck. Had I observed at table that her eyes looked as if she had been crying, and that she sobbed a couple of times? And whether I knew or suspected why? In return he spontaneously revealed his own inner man unasked, and as a reward for my patience I ascertained a variety of things about himself, and also obtained some information which appeared to me to be of importance. He is to write an obituary of the Prince for the _Kölnische Zeitung_--now? He will publish an account of his visit to him--where? He had been to see him last year, if I rightly understood, at Varzin, and had been for a walk with him for nearly two hours. He is an intimate friend of Aegidi, whom, doubtless as a congenial soul, he praises to the skies, and who, he says, once gave him a document from the archives of the Foreign Office for perusal. He is a vocalist, and intends to sing something to the Princess, &c. I answered his questions, for the most part with an expression of regret at my ignorance, and where this was not possible with that description of truth which is alone expedient in the presence of embarrassing or dangerous curiosity: _Sanheden ved modification_, truth with modifications, as the Danes jestingly define lies. I took an opportunity before dinner to speak to Chrysander about this odd fish. He was, however, just on the point of fetching him to see the Prince. I thought to myself that Bucher ought to have postponed his death for a while. At dinner Y., who again diligently pumped the Prince for the benefit of his note-book, strongly urged him soon to pay a visit to South Germany and the Rhine, and held out a very