a restaurant connected with
a royal hunting-chateau, and listened lazily to Elise's telling of the
legends of the region, accompanied by the music of some little waterfall
coming from the snow above and gleefully leaping into the lake. We
crossed the rocky, wild pasture-land lying between the Koenigsee and the
Obersee, that tiny lake that faithfully gives back as a mirror all the
crags, peaks, and snowy heights which hide it away there as if it were
indeed the precious opal you may fancy it to be when viewed from above.

We drifted back to the little inn, where we were approached by a
respectful _Kutscher_, who asked if we would not like to go down into a
salt-mine. Whatever we did, it was with one accord, and the answer came
in chorus, "_Ja, gewiss!_" Elise glanced down at her dainty toilet, a
look instantly interpreted by the _Kutscher_, who explained that
costumes for the descent were furnished, that the exploration was not
fatiguing, and that the carriages were ready.

It was all done in an "_Augenblick_," the bill was paid, the _Trinkgeld_
was scattered, and we were rattling away through as beautiful a region
as you will find, even in Switzerland. The snow-peaks were dazzlingly
white in the sunshine; in the ravines and defiles the darkness lingers
from night to night; singing, leaping Alpine streams came like molten
silver from the glaciers over the rocky ledges and through the hanging
forests, and a swift river ran through this happy, fertile valley of
peace and plenty in which our roadway wound. The peasants looked content
and well-to-do, and were picturesquely clothed. We stopped an old man
and bargained for the quaint, antique silver buttons on his coat, and
paid him twice its weight in silver money for the big silver buckle at
his belt. We were stopped at the frontier, and accommodatingly rose
while the custom-officers politely looked under the carriage-seats. The
wine we had just drunk was not taxable, while that we were about to
drink was: so we presented our remaining bottles to the officers to save
them the trouble of making change. Up to that time we had turned our
horses to the right: once over the Austrian line, custom demanded we
should turn to the left, a change to which the _Kutscher_ readily
accommodated himself. One is kept geographically informed in that region
by this difference in manners on the high-road in Austria and Bavaria.

We argued a little about the fittingness of women working in the