meet in fourteen days.  As we were obliged to travel as cheaply as possible, I started with but seventynine florins, (a florin is forty cents American) well knowing that if I took more, I should, in all probability, spend proportionally more also.  Thus, armed with my passport, properly vised, a knapsack weighing fifteen pounds and a cane from the Kentucky Mammoth Cave, I began my lonely walk through Northern Germany.  The warm weather of the week before had brought out the foliage of the willows and other early trees—­violets and cowslips were springing up in the meadows.  Keeping along the foot of the Taunus, I passed over great, broad hills, which were brown with the spring ploughing, and by sunset reached Friedberg—­a, largo city, on the summit of a hill.  The next morning, after sketching its old, baronial castle, I crossed the meadows to Nauheim, to see the salt springs there.  They are fifteen in number; the water, which is very warm, rushes up with such force as to leap several feet above the earth.  The buildings made for evaporation are nearly two miles in length; a walk along the top gives a delightful view of the surrounding valleys.  After reaching the chaussee again, I was hailed by a wandering journeyman, or handwerker, as they are called, who wanted company.  As I had concluded to accept all offers of this kind, we trudged along together very pleasantly, He was from Holstein, on the borders of Denmark and was just returning home, after an absence of six years, having escaped from Switzerland after the late battle of Luzerne, which he had witnessed.  He had his knapsack and tools fastened on two wheels, which he drew after him quite conveniently.  I could not help laughing at the adroit manner in which he begged his way along, through every village.  He would ask me to go on and wait for him at the other end; after a few minutes he followed, with a handful of small copper money, which he said he had fought for,—­the handworker’s term for begged.

We passed over long ranges of hills, with an occasional view of the Vogelsgebirge, or Bird’s Mountains, far to the cast.  I knew at length, by the pointed summits of the hills, that we were approaching Giessen and the valley of the Lahn.  Finally, two sharp peaks appeared in the distance, each crowned with a picturesque fortress, while the spires of Giessen rose from the valley below.  Parting from my companion, I passed through the city without stopping, for it was the time of the university vacation, and Dr. Liebeg, the world-renowned chemist, whom I desired to see, was absent.