"Pizey's" death was mysterious. I had long since left Berlin, and heard only infrequently about her. Finally the entire family moved away, and the dog was left in the old home, but under a new régime; she absolutely refused to emigrate. They say that she was stricken with asthma, and had to be put out of the way. I only hope that she was put out of the way in a square deal. The German scientists are very much given to dissecting dogs like "Pizey" while they are yet alive. If any German scientist perpetrated such an outrage on Spicer, I trust that his science will fall to pieces--certainly those parts of it based on "Pizey's" evidence. CHAPTER XI WANDERINGS IN GERMANY Years and years ago, when Luther was giving us, or rather demanding of us, two strong legs and an obstinate "No" when it was our duty to say "No," there were thousands of young men in Germany who had wheelbarrows, and, I trust, the two strong legs; they were called _Handwerksburschen_, traveling apprentices, a name that remains intact with their counterpart of our day. The apprentices in honorably quitting their masters--I fear, sometimes before honor had become a definite part of their moral baggage--would put their bits of tools into the wheelbarrows, the masters would give them a _glückauf_, and away the young men would go over Europe, studying their trades in different countries, and getting acquainted with life in towns, villages and fields. In the main, they were earnest inquirers of their kind, seeking comparative wisdom and a friendly acquaintance with the _Chaussee_. Luther has long since gone, and with him the _Handwerksbursch_ of his time. The _Chaussee_ has given away to the fourth-class railway car, and the wheelbarrow and kit of tools to a stingy knapsack. The _Handwerksbursch_ still has two legs, as a rule, but he hates to use them. Such good nature and fellowship as must have prevailed among Luther's traveling apprentices could also be found among the students of the time. They took to the _Chaussee_, saw men, cities and things, and their vacation over, returned to their lectures and books. Like the _Handwerksbursch_, however, they have found their accounting with the present, and to-day are quite as much at home in the fourth-class car as were their predecessors on the _Chaussee_. In course of time it came my turn to make one of the students' tours of Germany. The _Semester_ was over, a friendly companion was at hand, and, for a _Rundreise_ excursion, we had sufficient money in our pockets. It may or may not have been a sop to _Die Ferne_ that I undertook this jaunt, but I think now that it was merely a well-timed outing in order that _Die Ferne_ should not be consciously considered. Here again, as so often before and since, credit must be given to my mother. She seemed to know to the hour almost, the time when it was necessary for me to jump out of harness and take to the open again.