bright, light-haired, blue-eyed creature after her father's heart.
She was named Luise, but she was always called Blondchen. She was
his only playfellow, as the irritable father in Moscow cared for no
acquaintances. His father's one wish was to return to his home, but
for a long time the mother would not have it so. At last, in the
year 1858, he accomplished his wish. He was then sixty-three years
old, and he represented to his wife that after his life of
unremitting work, now in its undoubted decline, he had a right to
spend the last few years in peace in his native land. He possessed
enough for his family to live on; the children would grow and get a
better education than in Russia, and above all he wished to keep his
Prussian nationality. The mother yielded, and so they came to
Berlin, where the father bought a modest house near the Friedrich-
Wilhelm gymnasium. This house was now Wilhelm's property. "We
children liked Berlin very much. I soon became independent and self-
reliant, after school hours wandering in the streets as much as I
pleased, and used to make eager explorations in all directions,
coming home enraptured when I had found a beautiful neighborhood, a
stately house, a statue of some general in bronze or marble. I used
to take Blondchen by the hand, and show her my discovery. The
Friedrichstadt with its straight streets interested us very much; I
had a fancy that the houses were marshaled in battalions, as if by
an officer on parade, and that when he gave the word 'March,' they
would suddenly walk away in step, like the soldiers on the parade
ground. I explained this to my sister, and often when we were in our
own street she would call out 'March!' to see if the long row of
houses would not begin to move. However, we liked the old part of
Berlin better, where the streets, with their capricious and serpent-
like windings, reminded us of the crooked alleys of Moscow. The
streamlets of the Spree exercised a powerful attraction over us.