Saturday, October 4:
A good night for R. Talked a lot about Lusch's excellent report; this little expedition was a complete success, and the child has experienced much of significance and observed it well. I spend the whole morning talking with her, and at lunch her very lively accounts continue.
In the afternoon arrangements are made for the celebratory fireworks display; over coffee R. had told me that the fireworks man, a cobbler by trade, has a chest complaint arising from his exertions during the war, can no longer mend shoes, and is helping himself out with all kinds of foolish things; he looks wretched, R. says. Reflections on militarism, whether it does not sap the strength of a nation...
At 7 o'clock the very fine fireworks display, celebrating Eva's recovery and Lulu's return home. Afterward Herr Rub. plays us Beethoven's Quartet in F Major, Op. 18, No. 1, and R. says he almost prefers hearing it on the piano, where he can dictate the tempi, to having it played by fiddle scrapers, whom he cannot bear.