ABSTRACT
The author returns to the winter of 1919, when they prepared for our removal to Frankfurt. They succeeded in finding a lovely house, in Cronstetten Strasse, on the northern fringe of the city, with a view towards the Taunus hills. It was the nicest house we ever had, with a big garden full of fruit trees, pears and peaches, which brought us a rich harvest. They let some attic rooms to the author's friend Ernst Hellinger, professor of mathematics, and his unmarried sister. The old Oppenheims were good people, very kind and hospitable; we were often invited to their box in the opera house. The author saw many excellent performances in those two years in Frankfurt. The French occupation has left at least one definite trace in his memory. There was much excitement in the town because the French used black colonial troops, which the Germans regarded as a deadly insult.
