and would not the Herr Student like to have the Weiser Boch lady mention
his name to some of the German students who dropped in? Carl left his
card, and wondered if anything would come of it.

The very next afternoon,--such a glowing account of the Amerikaner the
Weiser Boch lady must have given,--a real truly German student, in his
corps cap and ribbons, called at our home--the stiffest, most decorous
heel-clicking German student I ever was to see. His embarrassment was
great when he discovered that Carl was out, and I seemed to take it
quite for granted that he was to sit down for a moment and visit with
me. He fell over everything. But we visited, and I was able to gather
that his corps wished Herr Student Par-r-r-ker to have beer with them
the following evening. Then he bowed himself backwards and out, and
fled.

I could scarce wait for Carl to get home--it was too good to be true.
And that was but the beginning. Invitation after invitation came to
Carl, first from one corps, then from another; almost every Saturday
night he saw German student-life first hand somewhere, and at least one
day a week he was invited to the duels in the Hirsch Gasse. Little by
little we got the students to our Wohnung; then we got chummier and
chummier, till we would walk up Haupt Strasse saluting here, passing a
word there, invited to some student function one night, another affair
another night. The students who lived in Heidelberg had us meet their
families, and those who were batching in Heidelberg often had us come to
their rooms. We made friendships during that year that nothing could
ever mar.

It is two years now since we received the last letter from any
Heidelberg chum. Are they all killed, perhaps? And when we can