We saw something of the misery even here.  It was painful to walk through the streets and see so many faces bearing plainly the marks of want, so many pale, hollow-eyed creatures, with suffering written on every feature.  We were assailed with petitions for help which could not be relieved, though it pained and saddened the heart to deny.  The women, too, labor like brutes, day after day.  Many of them appear cheerful and contented, and are no doubt, tolerably happy, for the Germans have all true, warm hearts, and are faithful to one another, as far as poverty will permit; but one cannot see old, gray-headed women, carrying loads on their heads as heavy as themselves, exposed to all kinds of weather and working from morning till night, without pity and indignation.

So unusually severe has been the weather, that the deer and hares in the mountains near, came nearly starved and tamed down by hunger, into the villages to hunt food.  The people fed them everyday, and also carried grain into the fields for the partridges and pheasants, who flew up to them like domestic fowls.  The poor ravens made me really sorry; some lay dead in the fields and many came into the city perfectly tame, flying along the Main with wings hardly strong enough to boar up their skeleton bodies.  The storks came at the usual time, but went back again.  I hope the year’s blessing has not departed with them, according to the old German superstition.

March 26.—­We have hopes of spring at last.  Three days ago the rain began and has continued with little intermission till now.  The air is warm, the snow goes fast, and every thing seems to announce that the long winter is breaking up.  The Main rises fast, and goes by the city like an arrow, whirling large masses of ice upon the banks.  The hills around are coming out from under the snow, and the lilac-buds in the promenades begin to expand for the second time.

The Fair has now commenced in earnest, and it is a most singular and interesting sight.  The open squares are filled with booths, leaving narrow streets between them, across which canvas is spread.  Every booth is open and filled with a dazzling display of wares of all kinds.  Merchants assemble from all parts of Europe.  The Bohemians come with their gorgeous crystal ware; the Nuremborgers with their toys, quaint and fanciful as the old city itself; men from the Thuringian forest, with minerals and canes, and traders from Berlin, Vienna, Paris and Switzerland, with dry goods and wares of all kinds.  Near the Exchange are two or three companies of Tyrolese, who attract much of my attention.  Their costume is exceedingly picturesque.  The men have all splendid manly figures, and honor and bravery are written on their countenances.  One of the girls is a really handsome mountain maiden, and with her pointed, broad-brimmed black hat, as romantic looking as one could desire.  The musicians have arrived, and we are entertained the whole day long by wandering