My mother told me I was never really taught to read. Ludo, who was a year
and a half older, was instructed in the art. I sat by playing, and one
day took up Speckter's Fables and read a few words. Trial was then made
of my capability, and, finding that I only needed practice to be able to
read things I did not know already by heart, my brother and I were
thenceforth taught together.

At first the governess had charge of us, afterward we were sent to a
little school kept by Herr Liebe in the neighbouring Schulgarten (now
Koniggratz) Strasse. It was attended almost entirely by children
belonging to the circle of our acquaintances, and the master was a
pleasant little man of middle age, who let us do more digging in his
garden and playing or singing than actual study.

His only child, a pretty little girl named Clara, was taught with us, and
I believe I have Herr Liebe to thank for learning to write. In summer he
took us on long walks, frequently to the country seat of Herr Korte, who
stood high in the estimation of farmers.

From such excursions, which were followed by others made with the son and
tutor of a family among our circle of friends, we always brought our
mother great bunches of flowers, and often beautiful stories, too; for
the tutor, Candidate Woltmann, was an excellent story-teller, and I early
felt a desire to share with those whom I loved whatever charmed me.

It was from this man, who was as fond of the beautiful as he was of
children, that I first heard the names of the Greek heroes; and I
remember that, after returning from one of these walks, I begged my
mother to give us Schwab's Tales of Classic Antiquity, which was owned by
one of our companions. We received it on Ludo's birthday, in September,