One of my teachers was Lieutenant Commander Pochhammer, whose father was a professor of Italian literature. His especial subject was Dante. He gave lectures to the naval students on the _Divine Comedy_. Strange, I hated study, but I liked these lectures on Dante and I liked to study Dante. I did not understand much of it, but I found great pleasure in it. It was because of Beatrice, the Divine Maiden. I thought she must be the same as my fairy princess. Whenever Professor Pochhammer spoke of her in his lectures, or whenever I read about her in the pages of Dante, I was reminded of that fairy princess I knew must live on the green island the _Niobe_ had sailed by, the fairy princess I had dreamed of aboard the _Cæsarea_, when old Smutje had whistled "My Heart Is Like a Beehive" and I had taken up the refrain. The fairy princess, of whom I had had visions many another time, had been a blessing to me before, and surely, in a singular way, she was a blessing to me now. My interest in Dante and Beatrice, as propounded by Professor Pochhammer, made an excellent impression, not only on the professor himself, but also on his son Lieutenant Commander Pochhammer and my other teachers. For Dante's and Beatrice's sake they winked at some of my most glaring deficiencies. They built up my confidence. I passed the necessary examination. The Emperor ordered that my commission be antedated, so that I might have seniority rights of a longer service than I had actually rendered. I was assigned to duty aboard the _Preussen_, and there, during my leisure time, built models of sailing ships. One night, in a Hamburg café, I sat talking with a friend, a shipowner. "When I crossed the harbour to-day," I said, "and saw the sailing ships. I remembered how I used to sit on a spar while the sun was setting and listen to a fellow playing a squealer. You know what a squealer is? An accordion. I wish I could be a sailor back on a ship again." "Don't be foolish," my friend replied. "I have never yet heard of a certified engineer wanting to go back to the anvil." "But," I insisted, "I want to be a sailor again if only for a few days, and you must help me." I made him give me a muster certificate for one of his ships, the _Hannah_, which was lying in port and taking on a crew. I went to a seaman's supply store and bought a pair of overalls, a shirt, a blue and white blouse such as sailors wear, a cap, a blanket, and a mattress. The blanket and mattress I had sent to the _Hannah_. The clothing I took with me. I took a cab, and bade the driver go to the docks. Inside, I took off my naval uniform and packed it in the bag I had with me, and donned my sailor's togs. At my destination, I got out. The driver, a decent old fellow, opened his eyes wide. "Are you the naval officer who got in?" "Yes." "Say, what are you going to do? You have changed your clothes so they won't recognize you when they find you. You are going to drown yourself."