men on the march to interpose between Southern and Northern Germany.  The house had not heard from Paris and could not expect to hear.  Acting on their advice I sent a distressful telegram roundabout through Switzerland to Paris.  There was a possibility that such a message might go through; otherwise there was no hope.  I then spent at Munich one of the most anxious weeks of my life.  I was nearer the pavement than I have ever been before or since.  There was a charming German family at the inn at which I stopped, gentle, courteous people, father, mother, and a little blue-eyed daughter.  When the little girl found I was from America I can now see her innocent wide-open eyes as she asked me if I had ever seen an Indian.  I could tell her some good stories of Indians for in boyhood I had lived near a reservation of Senecas, at that time to a large extent, in their primitive state.  When I ventured one day to tell the polite father of my present embarrassment I at once noticed a sudden cooling off.  The little girl no longer came to talk with me and the family held aloof.  Plainly I had become an object of suspicion, I was now penniless, my story might be true or perhaps I was paving the way for asking a loan.  How could he tell that I was not a dead-beat?  I was really in a strait.  The Americans had very generally left the city in consequence of the turmoil.  I could hear of no one excepting our Consul who was still at his post.  Calling upon him and telling my story, I found him cool to the point of rudeness.  I had excellent letters from Bancroft and others which I showed him and which ought to have secured me a respectful hearing.  I asked only for sympathy and counsel but I received neither, and could not have been treated worse if I had been a proved swindler.  The Consul afterwards wrote a book in which he told of experiences with inconvenient countrymen who had recourse to him in their straits, and possibly I myself may have figured as one of his examples.  My feeling is that he was a man not fit for his place, for in the circumstances he might certainly have shown some kindness.  My few pieces of silver jingled drearily in my pocket; perhaps my best course would be to enlist in the German army.  I thought the cause a just one for the atmosphere had made me a good German, and as a soldier I might at least earn my bread.  To my joy, however, in one of my daily visits to the banking house the courteous young partner told me that a telegram had come in some roundabout way from Paris and they were prepared to pay me the full amount on my letter of credit.  I clutched the money, two pretty cylinders of gold coin done up in white paper, which I sewed securely into the waist-band of my trousers and felt an instant strengthening of nerve and self-respect.