Thus I remained for a time in Breslau; I was sick three times in one winter, so they had to take me to the hospital. For the students had a special hospital, and their own physician. Sixteen hellers were also paid weekly from the Town-house for each sick person; with this, one could be supported quite well; attention was paid to the patients; they had good beds, but there was great vermin therein, as large as ripe hempseed, so that I, and others too, preferred to lie on the ground in the room, rather than in the beds. In winter the shooters lie on the ground in the school, but the Bacchants in the small chambers, of which there were several hundred at St. Elizabeth’s. But in the summer when it was hot, we lay in the churchyard, collected grass, such as is spread in summer before the doors on Sunday in the gentleman’s streets. We collected some in a little place in the churchyard, and lay therein like pigs in the straw. But when it rained, we ran into the school; and when there was a thunderstorm, we sang responses and other songs with the sub-cantor almost the whole night. Occasionally in summer we went after supper to the beer-hall to beg for beer. And the drunken Polish peasants would then give us so much that I was often unable to find my way to the school, although I was only a stone’s throw away from it. In short, there was enough to eat, but there was not much study.
In the school of St. Elizabeth, indeed, at one time, nine Baccalaureates read at the same hour, in the same room. The Greek language had not yet made its way anywhere in the land. Similarly, no one had printed books yet; the preceptor alone had a printed Terence. What was read had first to be dictated, then defined, then construed, and at last explained; so that the Bacchants had to carry home great, miserable books when they went away.
Thence eight of us betook ourselves to Dresden; it happened again that we suffered much hunger. Then we determined to separate for a day. Some went to look after geese, some after turnips and onions, and one after a pot; but we little ones went into the city of Neumarkt, which was not far from there on the road, and were to look after bread and salt, and in the evening we were to come together again outside the city. We intended to set up our camp there outside the city, and cook what we might have then. A gunshot distance from the city there was a well, where we wished to remain for the night. But when those in the city saw the fire, they shot at us, yet did not hit us. Then we betook ourselves behind a ridge to a little brook and thicket; the older comrades cut down branches, and made a hut; one part plucked the geese, of which we had two; others cut up the turnips and put them into the pot, along with the head, feet, and even the entrails; others made two wooden spits and began to roast; and when it was a little brown we cut off pieces and ate; and we ate the turnips, too. In the night we heard something flapping; near us was a weir, from which the water had been let off the day before, and the fish were springing up in the mud. Then we took as many fish as we could carry in a shirt on a stick, and went to a village; there we gave a peasant some fish, so that he would cook the others for us in beer.
When we had again returned to Dresden, the schoolmaster and our Bacchants sent some of us boys out to find some geese. Then we agreed that I should throw and kill the geese, and they would take them and carry them away. Later, when we had found a flock of geese, and they had observed us, they flew away. Then I took a little cudgel, threw it among them in the air; I injured one so that it fell down. But when my companions saw the goose-herd, they dared not run up to it, though they could have reached it before the herder. Then the others flew down again, surrounded the goose, and cackled as if to encourage it. Then it stood up again, and went away with the others. I was much displeased with my companions, that they had not fulfilled their promise. But they did better thereafter; for we brought away two geese. The Bacchants and the schoolmaster ate the geese as a farewell, and went from there to Nuremberg, and thence to Munich.
On the way, not far from Dresden, it happened that I went to beg in a little village, and came before a peasant’s house. The peasant asked me whence I came. When he heard that I was Swiss, he asked if I did not have any more companions. I replied: “My companions wait for me outside the village.” He said: “Call them here.” He prepared a good meal for us, with plenty of beer to drink. There lay his mother in bed in the room. Then the son said to her: “Mother, I have often heard you say that you would like to see a Swiss before your death. Then you see several, for I have invited them, to please you.” Then the mother raised herself up, thanked the son for the guests, and said: “I have heard so much good of the Swiss, that I have very much desired to see one. Now I think I will die more willingly; therefore be merry.” And then she lay down again. We thanked the peasant, and went on again.
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