re all horrible."

"Do you not think we might compose something with an idiot in it? It
might be rather taking."

"It would not equal Caliban or Quasimodo; will you be so kind as to
spare me just now these efforts of imagination, and listen to me, for I
am reaching the interesting part of my story?"

"God be praised!" said the artist, as he puffed out an enormous cloud of
smoke.

"The next day the Englishman was served with tea in his bedroom, and
when I asked him to go to the 'Mer de Glace' he turned his head toward
the wall; so, leaving my phlegmatic companion enveloped in bedclothes up
to his ears, I started alone for the Montanvert.

"It was a magnificent morning, and small parties of travellers, some on
foot, others mounted, skirted the banks of the Arve or climbed the sides
of the mountain. They looked like groups of mice in the distance, and
this extreme lessening in size made one comprehend, better than anything
else, the immense proportions of the landscape. As for myself, I was
alone: I had not even taken a guide, this was too favorite a resort
for tourists, for the precaution to be necessary. For a wonder, I felt
rather gay, with an elasticity of body and mind which I had not felt in
some time.

"I courageously began climbing the rough pathway which led to the Mer de
Glace, aiding myself with a long staff, which I had procured at the inn.

"At every step I breathed with renewed pleasure the fresh, pure, morning
air; I gazed vaguely at the different effects of the sun or mist, at the
undulations of the road, which sometimes rose almost straight up in the
air, sometimes followed a horizontal line, while skirting the open abyss
at the right. The Arve, wending its course like a silvery ribbon, seemed
at times to recede, while the ridges of the perpendicular rocks stood
out more plainly. At times, the noise of a falling avalanche was
repeated, echo after echo. A troupe of German students below me were
responding to the voice of the glaciers by a chorus from Oberon.
Following the turns in the road, I could see through the fir-trees, or,
rather, at my feet, their long Teutonic frock-coats, their blond beards,
and caps about the size of one's fist. As I walked along, when the path
was not too steep, I amused myself by throwing my stick against the
trunks of the trees which bordered the roadside; I remember how pleased
I was when I succeeded in hitting them, which I admit was not very
often.

"In the midst o