On the 3rd of July, about six in the morning, I was watering my flowers. A young man entered the garden. He was blonde, beardless; he wore a German cap and gold glasses in a proud way. A long, loose woolen coat hung down in a sad way around his body. He wore no gloves; his leather shoes had huge soles. I put down my watering-pot, and greeted him in German with:"Guten Morgen!""Monsieur,"he said to me in French，but with a very unpleasant accent,"my name is Hermann Schultz; I have come to pass some months in Greece, and I have carried your book with me everywhere. "

That praise filled my heart with sweet joy; the stranger's voice seemed more beautiful than Mozart's music, and I directed a swift look of gratitude toward his gold glasses. You would hardly believe how much we love those who have taken the trouble to understand our jargon (行业术语).

I took him by the hand and seated him beside me on the garden-bench. He told me that he was a botanist and that he had a commission from the"Jardin des Plantes"in Hamburg. In order to complete his herbarium(植物标本馆)，he was studying the country, the animals, and the people. He expressed himself uneasily, but with frankness which inspired confidence. He questioned me, if not about every one in Athens, at least about all the principal persons in my book. In the course of the conversation, he made some statements on general subjects, which seemed to me quite insightful. Therefore, they motivated me to think more deeply and get a more reasonable opinion. At the end of an hour we had become good friends.