one leg.  Wherever there is room on the ground, put either a circular group of busts on pedestals, in consultation, all looking inwards—­or else the colossal figure of a man killing, about to kill, or having killed (the present tense is preferred) a beast; the more pricks the beast has, the better—­in fact a dragon is the correct thing, but if that is beyond the artist, he may content himself with a lion or a pig.  The beast-killing principle has been carried out everywhere with a relentless monotony, which makes some parts of Berlin look like a fossil slaughter-house.

He never missed an opportunity of studying the foreign drama, which was most praiseworthy, as he knew very little German and not a word of Russ:—­

At the hotel [at Danzig] was a green parrot on a stand; we addressed it as “Pretty Poll,” and it put its head on one side and thought about it, but wouldn’t commit itself to any statement.  The waiter came up to inform us of the reason of its silence:  “Er spricht nicht Englisch; er spricht nicht Deutsch.”  It appeared that the unfortunate bird could speak nothing but Mexican!  Not knowing a word of that language, we could only pity it.

July 23rd.—­We strolled about and bought a few photographs, and at 11.39 left for Koenigsberg.  On our way to the station we came across the grandest instance of the “Majesty of Justice” that I have ever witnessed.  A little boy was being taken to the magistrate, or to prison (probably for picking a pocket).  The achievement of this feat had been entrusted to two soldiers in full uniform, who were solemnly marching, one in front of the poor little urchin and one behind, with bayonets fixed, of course, to be ready to charge in case he should attempt an escape.

July 25th.—­In the evening I visited the theatre at Koenigsberg, which was fairly good in every way, and very good in the singing and some of the acting.  The play was “Anno 66,” but I could only catch a few words here and there, so have very little idea of the plot.  One of the characters was a correspondent of an English newspaper.  This singular being came on in the midst of a soldiers’ bivouac before Sadowa, dressed very nearly in white—­a very long frock-coat, and a tall hat on the back of his head, both nearly white.  He said “Morning” as a general remark, when he first came on, but afterwards talked what I suppose was broken German.  He appeared to be regarded as a butt by the soldiers, and ended his career by falling into a drum.

From Koenigsberg the travellers went on to St. Petersburg, where they stayed several days, exploring the wonderful city and its environs:—­