"I propose remaining here till to-morrow, that I may have a glimpse of the much-lauded Wald.—Love to all from your affectionate goodman, J.H. Burton."
"Eger, 4th July 1879.
"My dear Love,—The best account I can give you of where I am is, that I expect to reach Leipzic this evening. But it will still be some time ere I reach Antwerp, and you may as well write me somewhat. If any letters I get there prompt me to return with the least possible delay, I shall do so, but otherwise I shall wait, occupying myself in the Netherlands for the Antwerp steamer on Saturday, the 12th I think it is, to-morrow week.
"In going into the Bayerischer Wald I went where it was not easy to get speedily out, though I found a railway right through just opened. The night before last I slept, I suppose, some 4000 or 5000 feet above the sea, in a huge garret with some twenty beds in it. Somebody was sound asleep in one, but disappeared before I awoke. I supposed the house to have been temporary, for accommodating the workers making the railway, but I found it to be the hospice of the old road across the mountains. It has been a sort of pilgrimage, I think—gasthaus zur Landes Grenze.
"The scenery is naught in comparison with the Scots Highlands, or even our Pentlands. It is only in Scotland and the Lakes that hills of humble height look Alpine. The Wald is something like your Harz, but higher; so adieu.—Love to all from J.H. Burton."
"Thale, Monday, 5th July 1879.
"My dear Love,—I think you know this place. I found that if anything out of the direct line to Antwerp, it was only so to the extent of its short side line, some ten miles or so. When scenery is good, I enjoy a second visit to it more than the first, and this was specially so in the present instance; for in my visit from Grund, I took the most difficult and least profitable course, by climbing laterally to the level of the Ross Treppe, instead of going along the stream, and seeing the variety of cleft granite, unexampled, I think, elsewhere in that class of rock....
"I am longing to see your beautiful gardens, and all—but have nothing to grumble at—health never better.—Affectionate remembrances to the rest, from your affectionate gudeman, J.H. Burton."