Dear Kitty:

August 2, 1913.

Just tell me you care for me and I'll return to the States. You know that I love you and would be glad to give up anything in the world to win you. Of all the girls I have ever met, you are the only one who comes up to my ideals and I want you to know it.

Don't be angry with me because I speak of this country and appear unpatriotic to my own land. You know it is an American characteristic to knock our own and praise the other. Be patient with me.

You need the stronger arm to protect you, child, and I want to be that man, who will guide your footsteps to the channel of love, prosperity and happiness. Do consent to be my own sweet little girl, which will make me the happiest man on earth. I love you. I need you.

I want you.

Oh, Kitty, if you could only feel for me as I do for you, you would-I know you would

consent to marry me.

With a heart full of love for you, I am.

Devotedly,

BILLY.

Dear Billy:

September 4, 1913.

Think of me kindly and friendly, but pleaseoh please! Don't get silly.

I must not-I can not marry you nor anyone, at present, as I am more devoted to my career than I could ever be to a man. I must go on undisturbed, and must not allow selfish man's emotions to carry me away from my plan in life. I want to be your friend, but I do not want you to love me in that way. Write about your work and be sensible. I know that you love me and want me to marry you. You don't know how honored I feel, but Billy, I don't want to marry. With every best wish.

Yours,

KITTY.

P. S.-Naughty boy, somehow we agreed to write about conditions but you are allowing a breach to enter and thus side-track our purpose.

K.

Dear Little Friend:

Thus shall it be.

Heidelberg, Oct. 11, 1913.

In an earlier letter to you, I quoted Gibbon as saying, "The most civilized nations of modern Europe issued from the woods of Germany," I want to add to that quotation my opinion that the Germans themselves, in many respects are still in the woods.

To understand the life of Germany and its culture, one must bear in mind that the Vaterland is not a brand new country; that its natives have not adjusted themselves to modern civilization; and that Germans, not only are suspicious of foreigners, but lack confidence in themselves.

Having been for centuries, men of the forests. the Germans herd together from habit, fearing to be alone. In a crowd, at a picnic or schutzenfest, the German is boisterously happy, but left alone, the wild beast of his imaginatior drives him to melancholy and suicide.

One reason for the existence of the German army is the national feeling of loneliness. The second reason is purely a matter of political geography.

Germany is about three-fourths the size of our state of Texas, and about four times the size of our state of New York. It is situated in the very heart of Europe, surrounded by Russia, AustriaHungary, France, Switzerland, Belgium, Holland and Denmark. Across the North Sea is its mighty competitor, England. So situated and confronted, Germany has escaped the destructive waves of feminism, which makes manly women and womanly men, and that is her benefit; bu: her circle of competitors and enemies has mad: her a victim of militarism, which some day anay be her undoing.

I have inquired of many well-formed Germans as to the reasons for the country's devotion to things military and ve been given many explanations, but the Framount reason seems to be the idea that the any is the nation's chief defense against invasic and destruction by jealous neighbors.

Personally, I abhor soldiers and soldiery! The soldier's uniform fills me with disgust and horror. Like begets like, and I am sure that Germany's military establishment furnishes the reason and excuse for the military establishment of her neighbors.

For me, a pacifist, Germany still remains the land of the Nibelungenlied, and of Grim's fairy tales, of giants and gnomes, stalks and turretted castles.

Since writing my last letter to you, I have been to Leipsic. This is the city which produced such extraordinary men as Liebnitz and Wagner and brought to itself Bach, Schumann, Mendelssohn, Hiller, Goethe, Schiller and Gellert.

Unlike Berlin, Leipsic is not a town of the noveau riche. There is nothing gaudy and tawdry about it; mingled with its homely intimacy is that air of elegance and good taste, almost French, found only among folk of breeding and refinement. August Sachs says, "There is no other great city in the land that more fully represents real Germanism in its universality."

Since the eighteenth century Leipsic has been the publishing center of Germany. There are about 1,000 book publishers and at the book exchange, nearly 12,000 booksellers are represented.

On the Augustus Platz is the 500-year-old university, which is one of the academic glories of the world.

As soon as I can spare the leisure time, I propose to visit the German City of Dreams. "Where is that?" I almost hear you ask, "Is it Dresden?" "Nurenburg?" No. It is Rothenberg, the enchanted!

From all of this, you see, I am thoroughly saturating myself with Germanism and run the risk of speaking Bostonese with a German accent in the days to come.