place called Landro, a solitary inn, in the
midst of this grand scenery, with a little chapel beside it. The water
from the dissolving snow was dropping merrily from the roof in a bright
June sun. We needed not to be told that we were in Germany, for we saw
it plainly enough in the nicely-washed floor of the apartment into which
we were shown, in the neat cupboard with the old prayer-book lying upon
it, and in the general appearance of housewifery; to say nothing of the
evidence we had in the beer and tobacco-smoke of the travelers' room,
and the guttural dialect and quiet tones of the guests.

From Landro we descended gradually into the beautiful valleys of the
Tyrol, leaving the snow behind, tho' the white peaks of the mountains
were continually in sight. At Bruneck, in an inn resplendent with
neatness--we had the first specimen of a German bed. It is narrow and
short, and made so high at the head, by a number of huge square bolsters
and pillows, that you rather sit than lie. The principal covering is a
bag of down, very properly denominated the upper bed, and between this
and the feather-bed below, the traveler is expected to pass a night. An
asthmatic patient on a cold winter night might perhaps find such a couch
tolerably comfortable, if he could prevent the narrow covering from
slipping off on one side or the other.

The next day we were afforded an opportunity of observing more closely
the inhabitants of this singular region, by a festival, or holiday of
some sort, which brought them into the roads in great numbers, arrayed
in their best dresses--the men in short jackets and small-clothes, with
broad gay-colored suspenders over their waistcoats, and leathern belts
ornamented with gold or silver leaf--the women in short petticoats
composed of horizontal bands of different colors--and both sexes, for
the most part, wearing broad-brimmed hats with hemispherical crowns,
tho' there was a sugar-loaf variety much affected by the men, adorned
with a band of lace and sometimes a knot of flowers. They are a robust,
healthy-looking race, tho' they have an awkward stoop in the shoulders.
But what struck me most forcibly was the devotional habits of the
people.

The Tyrolese might be cited as an illustration of the remark, that
mountaineers are more habitually and profoundly religious than others.
Persons of all sexes, young and old, whom we meet in the road, were
repeating their prayers audibly. We passed a troop of old w