Wednesday, July 21:
In the evening he had remarked that they had copied their bad tremolo habits from the opera, for the street calls were entirely free of them. He also reflected on the donkey’s cry: “The tragic thing is that it seems ridiculous; I remember its heehaw, its whistling, high up in the mountains; now it tries them down here, but they make no sense and sound quite different.”
No dictation today, on account of our fatigue. In the afternoon Prof. Schön, and a sea bath, which R. finds very agreeable; he is pleased with the children. When we are sitting on the terrace in the evening, he says sadly: “The German Emperor! When I think how pleasant this man was, I am not forgetting his friendliness in Bayreuth, and yet I cannot imagine meeting him again and maybe telling him my ideas.”
Recently the sight of a very poor drawing of the Crown Princess (Roman boy) brought melancholy words from him about Germany’s future; he frequently feels the urge to describe all his experiences with dukes, grand dukes, and crown princes in a letter addressed to an American; among other things he mentions the Grand Duke of Baden and his cordial, warm handshake.
In the evening the children ask Herr Rubinstein to play us something from Das Rheingold. We go back to the terrace, where R. has been waiting, to find the sky altered and clouds everywhere. All very lovely! The reflections in the water suggest to R. all kinds of pictures, such as the Persian troops crossing the Hellespont.