Tuesday, October 21:
R. slept well, and with astonishment and amusement we discuss the new element in our household; we owe it to Malwida, and when in great satisfaction I tell R. of my walk to the theater with our new friend, he at once sends her a telegram: “Devil take me, Münchhausen, you did that well - voice from the clouds.”
But a little booklet of materialistic poems written by our young friend alarms us a little. R. tells him frankly all his ideas about universities, etc. The young mind is assailed from many sides, but holding its own staunchly and well.
In the evening the second act of Coriolanus; for R. and me the object of unceasing, ever-recurring expressions of astonishment and admiration. Unfortunately a very sad letter to R. from friend Rub., to whom he replies very emphatically.