VI 



ERNST HAECKEL AND THE NEW ZOOLOGY 

 THE DREAM CITY 



THE train crept on its tortuous way down the pict- 

 uresque valley of the little Saale. At last we saw, 

 high above us, on a jutting crag, three quaint old cas- 

 tles, in one of which, as we knew from our Baedeker, 

 Goethe at one time lived. We were entering the re- 

 gion of traditions. Soon we knew we should be pass- 

 ing that famous battle-field on which Napoleon, in 

 1806, sealed the fate of Germany for a generation. 

 But this spot, as seen from the car window, bore no 

 emblem to distinguish it, and before we were quite 

 sure that we had reached it we had in point of fact 

 passed on, and the train was coming to a stop. 

 "Jena!" called the guard, and the scramble for "lug- 

 gage" began, leaving us for the moment no place for 

 other thoughts than to make sure that all our various 

 parcels were properly dragged out along with ourselves. 

 For a wonder no Dienstman appeared to give us aid 

 showing how unexpected is the arrival of any way- 

 farer at this untoward season and for a moment one 

 seemed in danger of being reduced to the unheard-of 

 expedient of carrying one's own satchel. But, fortu- 

 nately, one is rescued from this most un-German pre- 

 dicament by the porter of a waiting hotel omnibus, 



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