a support, and his daughters provided for his physical comfort.

The big, broad-shouldered man with the huge mustache and deep, bass voice
looked like some grey-haired knight whose giant arm could have dealt that
Swabian stroke which cleft the foe from skull to saddle, and yet at that
time he was occupied from morning until night in the delicate work
splitting the calf skin from whose thin surfaces, when divided into two
portions, fine morocco is made.

We also met the family of Herr Zahn, in whose factory this leather was
manufactured; and when in the East I saw red, yellow, and green slippers
on the feet of so many Moslems, I could not help thinking of the shady
Black Forest.

Sometimes we drove to the little neighbouring town of Calw, where we were
most kindly received. The mornings were uninterrupted, and my work was
very successful. Afternoon sometimes brought visitors from Wildbad,
among whom was the artist Gallait, who with his wife and two young
daughters had come to use the water of the springs. His paintings,
"Egmont in Prison," "The Beheaded Counts Egmont and Horn," and many
others, had aroused the utmost admiration. Praise and honours of all
kinds had consequently been lavished upon him. This had brought him to
the Spree, and he had often been a welcome guest in our home.

Like Menzel, Cornelius, Alma Tadema, and Meissonier, he was small in
stature, but the features of his well-formed face were anything but
insignificant. His whole person was distinguished by something I might
term "neatness." Without any touch of dudishness he gave the impression
of having "just stepped out of a bandbox." From the white cravat which
he always wore, to the little red ribbon of the order in his buttonhole,