The summer has now come and gone, as well as my autumn vacation, and nothing came of the meeting of my friends arranged to take place at this time, or rather it all turned out quite different from what we had planned. Gersdorff was expected from day to day and finally arrived just as I was in the thick of my heaviest school work; Rohde had even worse luck during the fortnight he spent in Basle, as we were all over-run with work to an almost unendurable degree and were consequently unable to do much for my friend. Krug passed through Basle with his wife, Deussen was also here, but young Baumgartner deserted me to absolve his year of military service with the Hussar regiment in Bonn. We three friends in "Baumann's Cave" take long walks together, but not without that feeling of making ourselves ridiculous that always attaches itself to an isolated trinity. As evening comes and we see our three long shadows stalking along near us, the thought of the "Three Just Comb-Makers" (the title of one of Gottfried Keller's novels) occurs to us and we laugh ourselves to death.
Within the next few days, I hope to send you my No. 3, which I recommend to your sympathetic good-will and consideration. The average reader will think that I am talking about the man in the moon, but in the long run I only care about six or seven readers. The work must now take its course and I know of nothing more to say about it. In the meantime, ideas for the succeeding number are already pressing in upon me, but heavy duties, particularly in the way of Greek literature, make it seem highly improbable that I shall be in a position to put my hand to this task.
Source: The Nietzsche-Wagner Correspondence, ed. Elizabeth Foerster-Nietzsche, trans. Caroline V. Kerr (Boni and Liveright, 1921), No. 44