He was very eager that I should start with the novel right away. I did him this favour and quickly returned to Hohenstein, to start without delay. My wife urged me almost even more than Münchmeyer himself. He had a personal preference for the meaningless title "Das Waldröschen" <The little rose of the forest> [a]. I agreed to this as well, but was careful not to make any further kinds of concessions to him. After just a few weeks, there were good news. The novel "went". This "went" is a term of the business, which means a not too commonplace success. I received no proof-sheets for correction or revision, and this was just all right with me, because I had no time for this. Copies of the finished booklets were not sent to me, because they would have interrupted my concentration. I was to receive my free copies after the novel was finished in one complete set. I agreed to this. Of course, this gave me no opportunity to compare my original manuscript with the printed text, but I did not worry about this. After all, we had agreed that no word of mine was to be changed, and I was so trusting in those days to think that this was enough. [a] An English translation was published in 1886 under the title "Rosita" in America. The success of the "Waldröschen" did not just seem to turn out well, but even quite extraordinarily. Münchmeyer wrote in his letters that he was very satisfied. He repeatedly wrote that he considered himself to be saved even now, after such a short time, for he did hope that the novel would continue to attract as many readers as it had up to now. He suggested that we should not stay in Hohenstein, but move to Dresden, since he wanted me to be near him. My wife enthusiastically jumped on the idea and made sure that it was carried out as quickly as possible. By no means, I offered any resistance. Especially since during my time in Hohenstein, I had to think more and more often of the warning, which was to be read in the Bible teacher's book. In spite of this warning, I had not just settled down at the place of my birth, but had also taken a wife from there. For some time, I had tended towards regarding the contents of this passage of the book as a superstition, but soon afterwards, I regarded it again with the eyes of an psychologist and was finally, by the weight of the facts, forced to realize that a single swimmer can at any rate cross muddy waters easier than when he has to take a second person along who can neither swim nor is willing to swim. Therefore, this move was rather what I had wanted, and yet, as a matter of caution, I did not move to Dresden itself, but rather to Blasewitz, to have more freedom. Even there, Münchmeyer called on me right away, and repeated his visits several time a week. A contact developed between him and us, which was quite advantageous in the beginning. I worked to hard that I did almost never permitted myself to relax. This novel progressed very rapidly,