Thursday, June 24:
Up at half past four to deal with letters it was impossible to write yesterday. Dull weather, then worked with the children.
For lunch Prof. Doepler, then some Bayreuth ladies; in the evening Prof. Doepler and friend Feustel. Again the accommodation problem: it seems definite that a hotel cannot be built, and now it is a matter of making the necessary arrangements. The question of the cost of the costumes is also discussed.
“My undertaking looks to me like a will-o'-the-wisp over a marsh,” R. says to me.
(Yesterday he dreamed about his mother; rouged and painted, she was furnishing a magnificent house for him, he himself so alarmed at not having given her money for it that he could only think of how to escape, and he ran away, even leaving his dog locked in to die of starvation!)