"'Pardon me, honored friend,' said I, 'if, without my knowledge, some bad books were included. What kind of writings are these, doctor?"
"'Stupid materialistic trash,' said he.' If I had Vogt, Moleschott, Colbe, and Büchner here, I would throw them body and bones out of the window.'
"I was very much surprised at this declaration, so contrary to the doctor's kind disposition.'What kind of people are those you have named?' said I.
"'No people, my dear Frank,' said he.' They are animals, This Vogt and his fellows have excluded themselves from the pale of humanity, inasmuch as they have declared apes, oxen, and asses to be their equals.'"
"I am now very desirous to know these books," said Richard.
"Well, do not let our friend know your intention," urged Frank.
Richard dressed and went to greet the singular guest. He was sitting before a large folio. He arose at Richard's entrance and paternally reached him both hands.
Doctor Klingenberg was of a compact, strong build. He had unusually long arms, which he swung back and forth in walking. His features were sharp, but indicated a modest character. From beneath his bushy eyebrows there glistened two small eyes that did not give an agreeable expression to his countenance. This unfavorable expression was, however, only the shell of a warm heart.
The doctor was good-natured—hard on himself, but mild in his judgments of others. He had an insatiable desire for knowledge, and it impelled him to severe studies that robbed him of his hair and made him prematurely bald.