hey see it, and sits down to his
supper with kindly feelings. Possibly he reflects, also, upon the
incident as a hint of the usual size of the fish in that neighbourhood.
He remembers that he may have been favoured in this case beyond his
deserts by good-fortune, and resolving not to put too heavy a strain
upon it, considers the next place where it would be well for him to
angle.

Hallstatt is about ten miles below Aussee. The Traun here expands into
a lake, very dark and deep, shut in by steep and lofty mountains. The
railway runs along the eastern shore. On the other side, a mile away,
you see the old town, its white houses clinging to the cliff like
lichens to the face of a rock. The guide-book calls it "a highly
original situation." But this is one of the cases where a little less
originality and a little more reasonableness might be desired, at least
by the permanent inhabitants. A ledge under the shadow of a precipice
makes a trying winter residence. The people of Hallstatt are not a
blooming race: one sees many dwarfs and cripples among them. But to the
summer traveller the place seems wonderfully picturesque. Most of the
streets are flights of steps. The high-road has barely room to edge
itself through among the old houses, between the window-gardens of
bright flowers. On the hottest July day the afternoon is cool and shady.
The gay, little skiffs and long, open gondolas are flitting continually
along the lake, which is the main street of Hallstatt.

The incongruous, but comfortable, modern hotel has a huge glass
veranda, where you can eat your dinner and observe human nature in its
transparent holiday disguises. I was much pleased and entertained by
a family, or confederacy, of people attired as peasants--the men with
feathered hats, green stockings, and bare knees--the women with bright
skirts, bodices, and silk neckerchiefs--who were always in evidence,
rowing gondolas with clumsy oars, meeting the steamboat at the wharf
several times a day, and filling the miniature garden of the hotel
with rustic greetings and early Salzkammergut attitudes. After much
conjecture, I learned that they were the family and friends of a
newspaper editor from Vienna. They had the literary instinct for local
colour.

The fishing at Hallstatt is at Obertraun. There is a level stretch of
land above the lake, where the river flows peaceably, and the fish
have leisure to feed and grow. It is leased to a peasant, who makes a
busine