After we had passed some very fine farmhouses, we reached the "Plan," where bright waters plashed into a stone trough, a linden tree shaded the dancing-ground, and a pretty house was pointed out as the schoolhouse of the village children.
A short distance farther away the church rose in the background.

But we had no time to look at it, for we were already driving up to the institute itself, which was at the end of the village, and consisted of two rows of houses with an open space closed at the rear by the wide front of a large building.
The bakery, a small dwelling, and the large gymnasium were at our left; on the right, the so-called Lower House, with the residences of the head-masters' families, and the school and sleeping-rooms of the smaller pupils, whom we dubbed the "Panzen," and among whom were boys only eight and nine years old.
The large house before whose central door--to which a flight of stone steps led--we stopped, was the Upper House, our future home.
Almost at the same moment we heard a loud noise inside, and an army of boys came rushing down the steps.

These were the "pupils," and my heart began to throb faster.
They gathered around the Rudolstadt carriage boldly enough and stared at us.

I noticed that almost all were bareheaded.

Many wore their hair falling in long locks down their backs.