day life now
and then; last night there was a festival of some
sort, and the young people sang very loud and very
late, jodeling famously and as if breath never
failed them. I suppose that the girls have already
written to you, and that you will have two full
descriptions of our scramble up to one of the
highest chalets which I can see now as I look up
from my writing-table, like a toy from a Nuernberg
box with a tiny patch of greenest grass beside it
and two or three tufts of trees. In truth it is a
good-sized, very old house, and the green square
is a large field. It is so steep that I wonder all
the small children have not rolled out of the door
and down to the valley one after the other, which
is indeed a foolish remark to have made.

I take great pleasure in my early morning walks,
in which you have so often kept me company, dear
child. I meet the little peasants coming down from
the hillsides to eight o'clock school in their
quaint long frocks like little old fairies, they
look so wise and sedate. Often I go to the village
of Unterseen, just beyond the great modern hotels,
but looking as if it belonged to another century
than ours. We have some friends, artists, who have
lodgings in one of the old houses, and when I go
to see them I envy them heartily. Here it is very
comfortable, but some of the people at _table
d'hote_ are very tiresome to see, noisy strangers,
who eat their dinners in most unpleasant fashion;
but I should not forget two delightful German
ladies from Hanover, who are taking their first
journey after many years, and are most simple and
enviable in their deep enjoyment of the Kursaal
and other pleasures easily to be had. But I must
not write too long about familiar pictures of
travel. I will not even tell you our enthusiastic
plan for a long journey afoot which will take nine
days even with the best of weather. Ada and Bessie
will be sure to keep a journal for your benefit
and their own. Are you really well, my dear Betty,
and busy, and do you find yourself making new
friends wit