We arose this morning in this old, but very comfortable hotel. Right in the front of our window is the market place and the stand for the cabs, and so we have plenty to look at whenever we wish to pass time in looking. The clock on the Rathaus chimes the hours and the quarters in a very pretty fashion.
Alfred called, and together we went to Mariaschein after dinner. I called for my mail here which has been at the P.O. since May 28th. It’s your letter of May 17th and contains the news of Wiebusch’s death, also about the prospects of St. Peter’s German Church job. I have written to Dresden, which is only two hours ride from here, to forward my mail and so I hope to hear more about this in a day or two.
So you are getting to be quite a gardener, well, this is the first step to domestic bliss. News about Ton-time received and noted. Check signed and sent on to Naples. Glad to hear of your being taken care of by the family, sorry to hear of the illness of your youngest, as Becker puts it, and not astonished that Rags still goes out on a spree—he is too old to learn by this time.
At Mariaschein, which is reached by rail in 10 minutes, cousin Johann Fritsch, with some of his and Robert’s little ones, received us at the depot and took us to the home. They have a paper bag factory, and they live right near it. So does cousin Minna, who lives in one of the houses, which they fitted up for her. It is an ideal German life. A nice large garden with a tenpin alley and garden house. Fine orchard.
We were received with much love, and they told us that they had counted on keeping us during our stay. We took coffee with Minna, who knows the whole family history, and supper with Robert, who has some fine children. The oldest is with him in the factory.
Home at about nine o’clock.
Editor’s note: Henry Wiebusch’s obituary.