Thursday, May 25:
I wake up early, accompany my daughter to the station, return through the meadows in the splendid morning air, and am home in time to have breakfast with R. We have it for the first time in the turret. We take delight in the birds, and before that R. expressed his pleasure in the variegated colors of the pansies, which he compared to the equally variegated twitterings of the birds. In his reading R. is trying to establish friendly relations with Die Kawi-Sprache, but all the talk about spirit and matters of that sort vexes him, and he says jokingly at lunch that from now on he will read only Gobineau, Schopenhauer, and himself.
In the afternoon we are again in the summerhouse with our friends, listening to the birds and taking pleasure in our good dogs. (In the morning R. wrote to Herr v. Bürkel and read his own Beeth.) With the Grosses, who ate with us today, R. discussed all sorts of things in connection with our performances.