powder provided for the toy cannon.

The poor fellow suffered so severely that I could not restrain my tears,
and though it was dark, and snow lay on the mountains, off I went to
Blankenburg to get the old surgeon, calling to some of my school-mates at
the door to tell them of my destination. It was no easy matter to wade
through the snow; but, fortunately, the stars gave me sufficient light to
keep in the right path as I dashed down the mountain to Blankenburg. How
often I plunged into ditches filled with snow and slid down short
descents I don't know; but as I write these lines I can vividly remember
the relief with which I at last trod the pavement of the little town.
Old Wetzel was at home, and a carriage soon conveyed us over the only
road to the institute. I was not punished. Barop only laid his hand on
my head, and said, "I am glad you are back again, Bear."

Another trip to Blankenburg entailed results far more serious--nay,
almost cost me my life.

I was then fifteen, and one Sunday afternoon I went with Barop's
permission to visit the Hamburgers, but on condition that I should return
by nine o'clock at latest.

Time, however, slipped by in pleasant conversation until a later hour,
and as thunder-clouds were rising my host tried to keep me overnight.
But I thought this would not be allowable, and, armed with an umbrella,
I set off along the road, with which I was perfectly familiar.

But the storm soon burst, and it grew so dark that, except when the
lightning flashed, I could not see my hand before my face. Yet on I
went, though wondering that the path along which I groped my way led