Next time don’t write to me via Barmen again; Mother leaves 
the letters lying there until she writes herself, and that is often a 
long time. But what I wanted to write to you—only you must not 
write this home, for I want to surprise them with it next 

To Marie Engels, October 29, 1840 511 

spring—I now have an enormous moustache and shall presently 
add to it a Henry IV and goatee beard. Mother will wonder when 
suddenly such a long, black-bearded fellow comes across the lawn. 
Next year, when I go to Italy, I too must 

look like an Italian. Zz = 

This is written by little Sophie Leupold a Kee aon 
who has just been to visit me in the office, 
while the Old Man* and Eberlein, who eats 
here in the house, are at a big dinner. Oh, I SZ 
could tell you interesting things about this (goo 
dinner, of engagements which are not yet : 
public and of stolen kisses, but that is not 
for a girl in a boarding-school. You will as 
learn it soon enough when we are back at 
home. Then I shall sit in the garden and 
youll bring me a big mug of beer 
and a sausage sandwich, and then I shall say: See, my dear sister, 
because you have brought the beer out to me and because it 
is such a fine summer evening, I will tell you of a big dinner 
which was celebrated in the year 1840, on the twenty-ninth of the 
month of October, in Bremen, Martini number eleven, in the 
Royal Saxon Consulate. But now I can tell you only this much, 
that quite enormous quantities of Madeira, Port, Pouillac, Haut 
Sauternes, and Rhine wine will be drunk this lunchtime. For 
although there are only five gentlemen, they are all very good 
drinkers, almost as good as I.— At the moment there is a Free 
Market here, and although I have not the honour to be intro- 
duced to Her Royal Highness, a Grand Duchess, and many Most 
Serene Princesses, we still have our fun. I am fortunately so 
short-sighted that I do not even know what the several exalted, 
more exalted, and most exalted personages look like who had the 
honour to drive past me. When next time such a most gracious 
lady is introduced to you, do tell me whether she is pretty, 
otherwise such personages don’t interest me at all. Our noble 
town-hall cellar is now so well fitted out it couldn’t be better; you 
sit so comfortably between the barrels. Last Sunday we had a 
moustache evening there. For I had sent out a circular to all 
moustache-capable young men that it was finally time to horrify all 
philistines, and that that could not be done better than by wearing 
moustaches. Everyone with the courage to defy philistinism and 
wear a moustache should therefore sign. I had soon collected a 

dozen moustaches, and then the 25th of October, when our 
moustaches would be a month old, was fixed as the day for a 
common moustache jubilee. But I had a shrewd idea what would 
happen, bought a little moustache wax and took it with me; it was 
then found that one had a truly very fine but unfortunately quite 
white moustache, while another had been instructed by his 
principal to hack the criminal thing off. Enough, that evening we 
had to have at least a few, and those who had none had to paint 
themselves one. Then I got up and proposed the following toast: 

Moustaches always were the pride 

Of gallant gentlemen far and wide. 

Brave soldiers faced their country’s foes 

In brown or black mustachios. 

So, in these times of martial glory, 
Moustaches are obligatory. 

Philistines shirk the burden of bristle 

By shaving their faces as clean as a whistle. 
We are not philistines, so we 

Can let our mustachios flourish free. 

Long life to every Christian 

Who bears his moustaches like a man. 

And may all philistines be damned 

For having moustaches banished and banned. 

To this doggerel glasses were clinked with great enthusiasm, and 
then somebody else got up. His principal would not give him a 
key, and so he had to be home by ten o'clock, or he would not be 
let in. That is the plight of many a poor devil here. He said: 

A plague befall 

Principals all 

Who won’t hand over the key of the door. 
May flies and strands of hair infest 

Their supper plates for evermore 

And may their nights give them no rest. 

Thereupon there was more clinking of glasses. So it continued 
until ten o’clock, then those without keys had to leave, but we, the 
fortunate ones with keys, remained seated and ate oysters. I ate 
eight, but could not manage any more, I still don’t enjoy the things. 

Since you are so fond of calculations and even want to reward 
me for them with the Order of the Yellow Envelope, I shall 

To Wilhelm Graeber, November 20, 1840 513 

graciously regale you with the remark that Courant now stands at 
1061/5 per cent, while a year ago it stood at 114. The louis d’or are 
falling so that anyone here in Bremen who had a million talers a 
year ago now only has 900,000, that is, 100,000 talers less. Isn’t 
that tremendous? 

You still don’t write me anything of the screed for Ida,’ did you 
get it and have you passed it on or not? It would be awkward for 
me if I had not sent it and it had been left lying around and got 
into the hands of the Old Man.” So write to me and make it the 
long six-page letter you promised me. I shall return the compli- 
ment. Here on the envelope you shall again be regaled with a few 
calculations which you may take to heart. That I had to copy this 
letter out again is the fault of Herr Timoleon Miesegans in 
Bremen, the same one whom the Old Man once threw out of the 
house two years ago. Your respectful and devoted 

Friedri 
Bremen, Oct. 29, 1840 riedrich