I felt very thirsty and longed for hot tea.

In an icy pool I washed and with infinite agony shaved my beard.

That razor was the worst of its species, and my eyes were running all the time with the pain of the operation.

Then I took off the postman's coat and cap, and buried them below some bushes.

I was now a clean-shaven German pedestrian with a green cape and hat, and an absurd walking-stick with an iron-shod end--the sort of person who roams in thousands over the Fatherland in summer, but is a rarish bird in mid-winter.
The Tourists' Guide was a fortunate purchase, for it contained a big map of Bavaria which gave me my bearings.