“Oh, my! do you realize, Mark, what a symposium it is to be?  I do.  To begin with, I am thoroughly tired, and the rest will be worth everything.  To walk with you and talk with you for weeks together—­why, it’s my dream of luxury.”

August 1st brought Twichell, and the friends set out without delay on a tramp through the Black Forest, making short excursions at first, but presently extending them in the direction of Switzerland.  Mrs. Clemens and the others remained in Heidelberg, to follow at their leisure.  To Mrs. Clemens her husband sent frequent reports of their wanderings.  It will be seen that their tramp did not confine itself to pedestrianism, though they did, in fact, walk a great deal, and Mark Twain in a note to his mother declared, “I loathe all travel, except on foot.”  The reports to Mrs. Clemens follow: 

Letters to Mrs. Clemens, in Heidelberg: 

ALLERHEILIGEN Aug. 5, 1878 8:30 p.m.  Livy darling, we had a rattling good time to-day, but we came very near being left at Baden-Baden, for instead of waiting in the waiting-room, we sat down on the platform to wait where the trains come in from the other direction.  We sat there full ten minutes—­and then all of a sudden it occurred to me that that was not the right place.

On the train the principal of the big English school at Nauheim (of which Mr. Scheiding was a teacher), introduced himself to me, and then he mapped out our day for us (for today and tomorrow) and also drew a map and gave us directions how to proceed through Switzerland.  He had his entire school with him, taking them on a prodigious trip through Switzerland—­tickets for the round trip ten dollars apiece.  He has done this annually for 10 years.  We took a post carriage from Aachen to Otterhofen for 7 marks—­stopped at the “Pflug” to drink beer, and saw that pretty girl again at a distance.  Her father, mother, and two brothers received me like an ancient customer and sat down and talked as long as I had any German left.  The big room was full of red-vested farmers (the Gemeindrath of the district, with the Burgermeister at the head,) drinking beer and talking public business.  They had held an election and chosen a new member and had been drinking beer at his expense for several hours. (It was intensely Black-foresty.)

There was an Australian there (a student from Stuttgart or somewhere,) and Joe told him who I was and he laid himself out to make our course plain, for us—­so I am certain we can’t get lost between here and Heidelberg.

We walked the carriage road till we came to that place where one sees the foot path on the other side of the ravine, then we crossed over and took that.  For a good while we were in a dense forest and judged we were lost, but met a native women who said we were all right.  We fooled along and got there at 6 p.m.—­ate supper, then followed down the ravine to the foot of the falls, then struck into a blind path to see where it would go, and just about dark we fetched up at the Devil’s Pulpit on top of the hills.  Then home.  And now to bed, pretty sleepy.  Joe sends love and I send a thousand times as much, my darling. 
                                                  S. L. C.