me, after I had given him my word by shaking hands that I would not tell on him, everything what had been said about me. This was so stupid and yet so outrageous, so careless and unscrupulous, so - - so - - so - - so - - - I found no words to thank this poor, well-meaning person for his painful honesty. But when he saw my face, he ran off as quickly as he could. This was a hard, a fateful day. I felt the urge to run out of the house. I ran about the forest and did not return home until late at night, deadly tired, and went to bed, without having eaten anything. In spite of my tiredness, I found no sleep. Ten, fifty, or even a hundred voices mocked me from inside with incessant laughter. I jumped up from my bed and ran away again, out into the night; where to, where to? I did not even pay any attention to this. It seemed to me, as if the characters from inside of me had left my body and were running next to me. Ahead of them all ran the pious principal of the seminary, followed by the accountant who had denied letting me borrow his watch, a pack of bowlers with bowling balls in their hands, and the robber-knights, robbers, monks, nuns, ghosts, and spooks from the trashy library at Hohenstein. These pursued me all about; they chased me to and fro. They screamed and cheered and mocked, so that my ears were ringing. At sunrise, I found myself climbing up a deep, steep quarry. I was trapped; I could not get out. There they got me, and they would not let me get back down either. There I was stuck between the sky and the ground, until the workers came and got me down with the help of a few ladders. Then, it went on, on and on and on, all day long, all of next night; then, I collapsed and fell asleep. Where, I do not know. It was on the narrow ridge between two fields of rye. A thunder woke me up. It was night again, and the rain of a thunder-storm was pouring down. I hurried away and reached a field of turnips. I was hungry and pulled out a turnip. With it, I reached the forest, crawled under the densely growing trees, and ate. After this, I fell asleep again. But I did not sleep tight; I kept on waking up. The voice woke me up. They mocked me constantly: "You've turned into a beast, eating turnips, turnips, turnips!" When the morning broke, I got a second turnip, returned to the forest, and ate. Then, I sought a clearing and let the sun shine on me, to get dry. Here, the voices kept silent; this calmed me down. I found a long, though only light sleep, during which I kept on tossing and turning from one side to another and was tortured by the short, upsetting images of a dreams, which suggested to me that at one time I was a bowling-pin, being knocked down, then again a gipsy from Preziosa, and then again something even worse. This sleep only made me even more tired, instead of strengthening me. I broke out of it, when night fell, and left the forest. Stepping out from under the trees, I saw the