acquire a taste for its flavour.

My sister-in-law came in later on in the evening (she is a
thoughtful girl), and brought a box with her about the size of a
tea-chest. She said:

"Now, you slip that in your bag; you'll be glad of that. There's
everything there for making yourself a cup of tea."

She said that they did not understand tea in Germany, but that with
that I should be independent of them.

She opened the case, and explained its contents to me. It certainly
was a wonderfully complete arrangement. It contained a little caddy
full of tea, a little bottle of milk, a box of sugar, a bottle of
methylated spirit, a box of butter, and a tin of biscuits: also, a
stove, a kettle, a teapot, two cups, two saucers, two plates, two
knives, and two spoons. If there had only been a bed in it, one
need not have bothered about hotels at all.

Young Smith, the Secretary of our Photographic Club, called at nine
to ask me to take him a negative of the statue of the dying
Gladiator in the Munich Sculpture Gallery. I told him that I should
be delighted to oblige him, but that I did not intend to take my
camera with me.

"Not take your camera!" he said. "You are going to Germany--to
Rhineland! You are going to pass through some of the most
picturesque scenery, and stay at some of the most ancient and famous
towns of Europe, and are going to leave your photographic apparatus