From W. E. Darwin to Emma or C. R. Darwin [c. 20 September 1877]

. . . We have not been lucky at table d'hote, as there are very few English here.

We have next us now a funny old dandy like a miniature duke of Wellington turned plump. Called Sir John Briggs, he is awfully sweet & polite   Lady B. is a tall beaky invalid, who took up the whole of last nights table d'hote in explaining how nearly starved she was from the greaseness of the meat, & telling me her adventures in a small village in the Black forest where they were starved cheated & bitten by bugs & mosquitos in the most appalling way, an hour of such narratives got a little boring. tonight I hope to make [illeg] sit next Sir John as she says she is good a drawing old Gentleman. Tomorrow we potter—go an expedition next day.