senig he played before the major the part of a great lubber of short wits, but still more of a sly-boots than of a fool. After he had determined to tell the story about the cellar, he affected ignorance and wonder at every thing. The sun and moon were to him new acquaintance, with which it was hard to make himself familiar, and the light troubled him. He seemed to believe that flowers and leaves and trees were made by the hands of men, and would say in his dialect: "How much time that must have taken them! Why be at so much trouble about it?" He spoke of himself in the third person, and talked to the bread that he was eating. The first time he saw a candle lighted, he asked them to give him the flame, so that he could put it on his wooden horse, which he pretended bit him sometimes. All of these things appeared suspicious to well-informed and reflecting persons, but their doubts were regarded as impious by believers. It had been decided that the wonderful story was true, and all Nuremberg believed in it. There are moral epidemics and times when nothing is less common than common sense.
Caspar Hauser, having become the adopted son of the whole city did not stay long in prison. He was first admitted into the family of the jailer, Hiltel; then he was entertained by Professor Daumer, who regarded him as a prodigy; and then in the house of municipal Councilor Biberbach. His fame went everywhere. Members of courts and cabinets occupied themselves with his adventures. Conjecture was exhausted in the effort to discover his parents, and to pierce the mystery of his long sequestration. He was made to relate his dreams, in the hope that some light might be extracted from them. Grand personages went out of their way to visit Nuremberg in order to see and question him. Count Stanhope conceived so lively an affection for him that he wanted to take upon himself the future care of him. Masters were introduced to him who tried to take the rudeness out of him and polish him, and even to teach him Latin. Indolent, and stupid as a marmot, he complained that they were drying up his mind with the study of such trash. The only marked taste he showed was for horseback-riding, in which he excelled. He exhibited but little recognition of the cares and attentions which they put upon him. He had a low and gross mind and a hard, ungrateful heart, while his insupportable vanity, indiscreetly pampered, grew from day to day. Women doted upon him, loaded him with favors and presents, and said sweet things to him.
An incident which made considerable stir completed the demonstration to persons of a willing disposition on the subject that Caspar Hauser was a young man of high lineage, and that his unknown persecutors had a large interest in bringing about his disappearance. On the 17th of October, 1829, while he was lodging with Professor Daumer, he was surprised in a closet by a black man (un homme noir), who struck him in the forehead with a sharp instrument, and went
