ud of him. . . . I have German to learn; but I have the consolation of knowing that I know as much about it now, as I did of Italian when I came to Italy.
I did not understand the Carta di Sicurezza that was given me at the gate of San Giovanni, when I entered Rome, the 21st of May.
At the first town that I come to in Germany I shall stop, take a master, and commence an assault for one week; then move on, studying on the road to Vienna; three weeks in Vienna,—a master all the time; then to Prague, Dresden, Berlin, and probably next down to Heidelberg,—an immense sweep; then down the Rhine into Belgium, to London, where I expect to be at the end of December or beginning of January.
Venice is a sort of jumping-off place.
I am here equally distant from Vienna and Athens.
I can be at either in less than seven days. I have ordered my letters to Vienna, where I expect to find a batch of two months. This is a temptation to the North; but there are the Piraeus and Marathon!
I am strongl
o out; dined in a garden under a mulberry tree, chiefly on fruits, salads, and wine, with the occasional interjection of a soup or steak: the fruits were apricots, green almonds, and figs; the salads, those of the exception under the second declension of nouns in our old Latin Grammar; the wines, the light, cooling, delicious product of the country.
By this time Greene came to me,—in accomplishments and attainments our country has not fivemen his peers,— and we walked to the Forum, or to San Pietro, or out of one of the gates of Rome: many an hour have we sat upon a broken column or a rich capital in the Via Sacra, or the Colosseum, and called to mind what has passed before them, weaving out the web of the story they might tell; and then, leaping countries and seas, we have joined our friends at home, and with them shared our pleasures.
After an ice-cream we parted; I to my books again, or sometimes with him to his house, where over a supper not unlike the dinner I have described, w