Schlinke was very excited when he held out his hand to me this evening. He notices.

( 121 ) September 6th, 1839.
At 11 a.m. Bertha surprised me with her visit, accompanied by Julius [Fiedler] and a woman who were fetching her brother's skins. I was ashamed of the dirt that was in my room and was generally a little embarrassed. I asked Bertha if she had been to the post office, to which she replied that she would rather send an express. When she said goodbye, she told me that she had written to Schlinke and that her companion had carried the letter there; she would have heard him mutter something about “rogues”.

It seems to me that I have never seen Bertha more amiable than she appeared today in her unpretentious, modest January finery; Her blooming cheeks were surrounded by a simple white bonnet, which was held together under her chin by a large black ribbon, and her modest breasts were hidden by a cloth, also black, which was connected to an apron of the same color. This awe-inspiring jewelry on the one hand, and their friendly expressions on the other, made an impression on me that can only be imagined, but not described. --

In the evening I enjoyed heartfelt moments among the natives as I recounted Christ's death, burial, resurrection and future judgment. Their attention showed that they understood me; Nor had they yet forgotten the names of God our Lord and of the first human couple, which I had previously told them.

There was a long conversation with Br. Teichelmann about marriage and so on, which I didn't like.

( 122 ) September 7th, 1839.
I learned today that Pinki* or Yurnto* means something mysterious that women and children don't need to know. If I understand correctly, it is a piece of wood that is used specifically for bloodletting.

My visit to Klemzig today was very poor, with the presence of Mr. Julius Fiedler and later Menge(144) cutting off almost all entertainment. Bertha was extraordinarily free and unbiased and I was too, all the more so when Bertha told me at an opportune moment that I wanted to put on a serious face now. The whole evening I struggled and worried with unbearable pain in my chest that I had to see the dear soul right in front of me and was not allowed to exchange a word or a glance with her.

When I said goodbye, Bertha accompanied me out again, where, when I expressed her regret that the visit had been so unfortunate, she replied that it had still been very happy for her. She asked to come sometimes on Sundays because her father expressed his surprise that I never came on Sundays. While we were still talking