everywhere there is a soft veil of greenery where larch and beech put out their golden buds and light up the spaces between the fir-shadows like veritable sunshine.

The still deep lakes of Tyrol, very small for the most part, have wonderful colours in their depths-emerald and ultramarine and gorgeous purple, as though Héré loved them, and had made them beautiful with reflections from peacocks' wings and breasts unseen by mortals; or possibly in later times, when German faerieland had supplanted old Olympus, the gnomes had sunk shafts and mined out galleries, piling stores of jewels and brilliant ore, and done a great business while shares were at a premium, till suddenly the world lost faith in them, treated them altogether as a myth, poor little elves, and so, finding the mine at a discount, they being not more than mortals, even a little less so in the matter of temper, let in the water and disappeared from the earth.

Writing of the spring as it ought to be in Tyrol, and as we found it during many happy weeks, it is only fair to state that in the year of grace 1866, the seasons were a little behindhand, and somehow the frost held its own in an unconscionable manner; and there are disadvantages in travelling in a country where visitors only come in with the late vegetables, and no blankets are kept! We consoled ourselves with philosophy, but facts are stern things, and it is difficult to believe that "whatever is is best" with the thermometer at 17°, and when you have to sleep in a German bed with one sheet and a duvet three feet square as your only defence against the cold. Certainly there are degrees of misery, and we were by no means at the lowest; but if the wind had not changed, and the frost had held, and we had journeyed far enough, we might have found ourselves in that outlying district where the cold was so intense that men's words froze as they were uttered, and conversation could only be resumed with the thaw in the spring!

We reached Berchtesgaden on the 22nd of May, in rather a bad humour, after a long wet drive from Reichenhall, and found that pleasantest of summer haunts ostentatiously preparing for warm weather and the butterflies it was to bring, and ignoring any poor strangers who might be "frozen out," and needing warmth and comfort and shelter.

Our tired horses dragged us along the broad high-road past many pretty châlets with cool green jalousies and shady arbours, but all hermetically sealed and guiltless of smoke or human habitant, past König Max's villa, also shuttered and barred and silent, past plashing fountains, the very thought of which made one shiver with a dire foreboding that we might have made a terrible mistake and that we were there too soon; on, with weary hoof splashing through the mud and sleepy driver nodding in the rain, till suddenly the Kutscher was smiling wide-eyed and wide-awake in a moment, and proving it by vigorous snappings of his whip. There was a quickening of the pace, a feeble demonstration of having done the last ten miles in an hour, and being a little blown in consequence, which imposed on nobody, and with a sudden jerk and rattle we drew up at the

Hotel zum Watzmann, at the entrance of the little town. There was a big brown church opposite, a sound of sweet voices chaunting, and wreaths of greenery all over the inn-door, where people were standing in a state of suppressed excitement, and a little Oberkellner, like a puppet on wiresthe sole marionette of a theatre opened before its troupe had been made ready, and with all the strings throughout the establishment attached to his small individuality,-who rushed to open our carriage-door, precipitating himself upon a bundle of cloaks with a vociferous welcome.

"Yes, the Herr had been there-the rooms were ready, the Herr had himself selected them. We were fortunate in our arrival-as, being the only guests, we could choose what pleased us. Just now it was true there were people, but that was only a wedding-one or two hundred of the peasants who would sup there, and there would be a dance. Could the Fräulein see them? Yes, surely-and dance also-there would be music: they were singing now, they were in the church over there, having already feasted. Later they would drink again, and the Damen should see the bride. There were the rooms: were the Damen satisfied?"

And so up the stairs and into the bright little chambers he hurried us; keeping up a ceaseless flow of talk, with much of hand-rubbing,-the cloaks being deposited, and little hasty runs through different doors, and busy directions to a quiet, slow, handsome Kellnerin who smiled her welcome and hastened to make us comfortable. Such fresh, clean, pretty rooms they were, gay with muslin curtains and green jalousies, crimson cushions on the window-sills, floors polished with much scrubbing, downy pink-striped coverlets, a sofa and the little round table, with its red cloth, to make believe we had a salon, and a great white earthenware stove filling up a quarter of the room, and looking as though many hours and more faggots would be needed before any warmth could penetrate its icy smoothness. It was impossible to resist the friendly welcome, the promise of dinner at the moment, and a dance afterwards, the hesitating request that we would graciously eat in a small room adjoining, the Speisesaal being occupied by the bridal party. We thawed at once; fraternized with the waiter, with the chambermaid, with the whole establish ment; threw ourselves heart and soul into the interests of the moment,

and determined to enjoy the fun. It was freezing hard-about that

there could be no mistake-and the little salon was two-thirds window and guiltless of a fireplace. We ate and shivered and listened to F.'s histories of his morning. He having preceded us on foot and arrived in time for the whole ceremony, and having witnessed sundry libations, was sceptical of the feasibility of our sharing even as spectators in the evening celebrations; but by this time the cold had become so intense, that his account of the big room with its warmth and light and many people, even with the tobacco-smoke, sounded welcome, and we ventured in, taking up a safe position near the door.

The scene was wonderfully picturesque and full of interest; the people enjoyed themselves so thoroughly, with such happy light-hearted merri

ment, with such earnest good-will, and the throng of glad faces, honest hard-working men and women, strong and sturdy, was a pleasant sight to see. The men were tall well-grown fellows, with handsome sun-burnt faces, with gay-coloured braces crossed over their white shirts-for there was hardly a jacket to be seen in the crowd, the dancing was too much in earnest for the carrying of any needless weight,-and wearing highcrowned hats, grey or black, some with the broad green band of the Salz-kammergut, all with feathers-white Lämmergeier, black Auerhahn, glossy and curled-a bunch of flowers, or a tassel, green or silver.

The women were in dark brown or black garments, hanging in heavy folds half-way below the knee, the bodice relieved with dainty chemisette or gay-coloured kerchief matching the brilliant apron, the hair glossy and braided, the dancers in green wreaths. One or two maidens who might, perhaps, aspire to belong to a higher class than the peasants around them wore flowing white robes, with trains that mournfully recalled Western civilization.

Down one side of the room sat the men and matrons,-house-fathers gossiping together over the weather and the crops, and clinking beerglasses; the mothers, with mild quiet faces and steadfast eyes shining out under the shade of their broad hats, with kind glances at the younger life around them, and pleasant smiles over the bright faces so innocently happy, and whispered reminders of past days and other Brautfests, and of their own old romances. Good souls, they looked quiet and patient, as

though through somewhat of sorrow and hard work, and blessed home joys and cares, they had kept their hearts fresh like a deep still pool made bright by the reflections from others' sunshine, and glad with little ripples of their own content, sending out rivers to barren places, and fed by streams from other lives, which, whether sweet or bitter, mingled with their own and made them more complete. There is something wonderfully touching in the faces of these German mothers—they look so good and hard-working and thrifty, though often so very poor, as though they might tell you sad stories of Hans being a Wildschutz, and Jacob far too much given to quarrels over the Branntwein, and that they and the little cows had to do all the work, yet the good God gave his blessing, and the kleine had never wanted for bread.

But all this time the dancing was going on fast and furious, till the great beams swung again, and the boards rose and fell with the hurrying feet. A little old man, the master of the ceremonies, worked himself almost into a fit in his excitement and eagerness. Standing in the centre of the room he shouted and stamped in time to the music, despotically marshalling his dancers, giving his orders right and left with vehement clappings, wiping his heated brows at every pause, and swallowing beer from many glasses hospitably held out for his acceptance.

We made our way through the throng to one corner where the bride and bridegroom were seated solemnly drinking. We had all to shake hands, with hearty good wishes, and to pledge them in some very sour liquid, like steel filings on edge, diluted with vinegar. They were of the peasant farmer class, neither very young. The man tall and ungainly, working off his awkwardness in offers of beer, and looking uncomfortably conscious of his long-tailed coat and heavy hat, which, as full dress, was de rigueur on the occasion. The bride was by no means pretty, but she spoke happily of their little cottage on the hills, and tried to do her part by asking the gentlemen to dance, and quietly accepting their apologies, thanking us for coming to them, and then relapsing into that stolid calm which nature and constant association with their dumb beasts teaches them, and which civilization has improved into the apathy of perfect goodbreeding!

The dancing was perfect, the men changing their partners in the middle of a waltz without losing a step. The fiddlers played faster and faster as the dancers flew round the room. Some danced by themselves, not to lose a moment, leaping into the air, snapping their fingers, and jodelling in very gladness of heart. We had a store of magnesium-wire and coloured lights, and our father flung the bright blazing papers among them amidst bursts of ecstatic wonder and delight. They all showed us the greatest respect and hospitality, and one very ugly old man, probably thinking our feelings might be hurt if we were altogether passed over, suggested, "Possibly the Fräulein will dance?" and on our professing ignorance of the figures, met the difficulty graciously with "Perhaps, then, a cotillon?"

but

At last, leaving them to their revels, we retreated to our rooms, not to sleep; the noise across the passage was deafening. When the bridal pair left about midnight, the band preceded them downstairs, and all the guests followed two and two, cheering and jodelling as they drove off in an Einspänner for their mountain châlet. And then came more dancing and more noise; and if any one had been so unreasonable as to keep awake and listen to heavy bodies falling downstairs, and the other slight confusions attending their departure, possibly their views of the piety and thrift and simple habits of these poor Bauern might have been modified, with a dreamy sense that the good and the evil has drifted pretty equally over the world we live in, and that men are not necessarily better because they live nearer the heavens and breathe rarefied air.

During our five or six days at Berchtesgaden we spent many pleasant hours exploring the wood walks for fresh views of the snow-covered mountain whose great jagged peaks watched over the village below, or driving to the beautiful König-see, where we rowed lazily over the water, watching the long still shadows of the rocks, or landing to visit some cascade hidden in their clefts; spending long, quiet hours in the sunshine, sitting in a sheltered nook in the higher meadows, with work and books and painting, and a tinkling accompaniment of cow-bells, and far away great snow-slopes growing into violet shadows as the sun sank lower in the west; or discovering little out-of-the-way homesteads, where we made friends with the kind peasants, and heard their stories of good fortune or privation, admired the babies, and bought bowls full of sweet new milk, for now the cold weather had come suddenly to an end, changing into the perfection of warm noonday, with just a cheery thought of frost morning and evening that kept the snow upon the hills.

As the evening of a wet day in June was closing in, we drew near the little village of Krimml. Having parted from F. at Hallstadt, and seen him start with a country guide and his trusty Almer for ten days in the mountains, and taken leave of our father at Satzburg-where he left us to return home we four ladies, with the carriage and horses which we had already employed in our drive from Ischl, arranged to travel under Walther's * good care over the Hirschbühl, rejoining F. at Krimml, and spending a few days together in the Ziller-thal. For the last twenty-four hours the weather had been the only drawback to enjoyment; all the morning the rain had poured down in chilly showers, which grew only colder and mistier as the day wore on.

There was little traffic on the road, and few or no guests at the inns at this early season, except, as ever, the crowd of peasants in the Stube; and when we halted for a meal we had much pleasant gossip with the honest

* Bartholome Walther, of Pontresina, one of the best guides of the Engadine.