Not long after that we were invited for dinner, and again for tea, this
time, according to orders, bringing the sons. They both fell into an
Italian fountain in the rear garden as soon as we went in for
refreshments. By my desk now is hanging a photograph we have prized as
one of our great treasures. Below it is written: "Mrs. and Mr. Parker,
zur freundlichen Erinnerrung--Lujio Brentano." Professor Bonn, another
of Carl's professors at the University, and his wife, were kindness
itself to us. Then there was Peter, dear old Peter, the Austrian student
at our pension, who took us everywhere, brought us gifts, and adored the
babies until he almost spoiled them.

From Munich we went direct to England. Vicissitudes again in finding a
cheap and fit place that would do for children to settle in. After
ever-hopeful wanderings, we finally stumbled upon Swanage in Dorset.
That was a love of a place on the English Channel, where we had two
rooms with the Mebers in their funny little brick house, the "Netto."
Simple folk they were: Mr. Meber a retired sailor, the wife rather worn
with constant roomers, one daughter a dressmaker, the other working in
the "knittin" shop. Charges, six dollars a week for the family, which
included cooking and serving our meals--we bought the food ourselves.

Here Carl prepared for his Ph.D. examination, and worked on his thesis
until it got to the point where he needed the British Museum. Then he
took a room and worked during the week in London, coming down to us
week-ends. He wrote eager letters, for the time had come when he longed
to get the preparatory work and examination behind him and begin
teaching. We had an instructorship at the University of California
waiting for us, and teaching was to begin in January. In one letter he
wrote: "I now feel like landing on my exam, like a Bulgarian; I am that