" All, all are emptiness--are names, are dreams. The poets were
old-fogy chaps: they never saw the women of to-day, and well for them
they did not.
I am still unmated: I bear the loneliness that awaits all great
excellence. The sun has no companion in glory; the moon shines alone;
there was but one phoenix; the white elephant is solitary. So it must
be with me. I am not misanthropic: I have learned to bear my
superiority with philosophy. I was groomsman at Eva's wedding the
other day, and gave her a handsome present, as it was expected I
should. I still like my fellow-beings, and fulfill the duties of life
to the best of my abilities. I flirt, I dance, walk, drive, pursue my
usual occupations, give bachelor-parties at The Beauties, and have
grown contented from habit, but I am a confirmed old--or shall I say
young?--bachelor.
ITA ANIOL PROKOP.
MUNICH AS A PEST-CITY.
From a time whereof the memory of man runneth not to the contrary,
Munich has had the reputation of being an exceptionally unhealthy
place. All ancient towns have their legends of desolating plagues, the
record of an ignorant defiance of sanitary laws, but such stories are
especially numerous in the traditions of Munich, and are connected
with circumstances which show that epidemic diseases were formerly
extremely frequent and virulent in that City.
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