visitors. An interesting concession on the part of the late owner (the
gentleman hurrying to catch up with the dogs that had got a bit of a
start on him),--may here be mentioned. He included all of the contents
of the castle for the price paid, and the deed, or whatever you call
it, specifically set forth that I, John Bellamy Smart, was the sole
and undisputed owner of everything the castle held. This made the
bargain all the more desirable, for I have never seen a more beautiful
assortment of antique furniture and tapestry in Fourth Avenue than was
to be found in Schloss Rothhoefen.

Our second and more critical survey of the lower floors of the castle
revealed rather urgent necessity for extensive repairs and refurbishing,
but I was not dismayed. With a blithesome disregard for expenses, I
despatched Rudolph, the elder of the two sons to Linz with instructions
to procure artisans who could be depended upon to undo the ravages of
time to a certain extent and who might even suggest a remedy for leaks.

My friends, abhorring rheumatism and like complaints, refused to sleep
over night in the drafty, almost paneless structure. They came over
to see me on the ensuing day and begged me to return to Vienna with
them. But, full of the project in hand, I would not be moved. With the
house full of carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, locksmiths, tinsmiths,
plumbers, plasterers, glaziers, joiners, scrub-women and chimneysweeps,
I felt that I couldn't go away and leave it without a controlling
influence.

They promised to come and make me a nice short visit, however, after
I'd got the castle primped up a bit: the mould off the walls of the
bedrooms and the great fireplaces thoroughly cleared of obstructive
swallows' nests, the beds aired and the larder stocked. Just as they