inal moraine, which
is sometimes, after centuries perhaps, clothed with vegetation and
dotted with cottages."

"This basin, or collector of neve, on whose beautiful oasis I have the
felicity to lunch in such charming society (the jovial Professor bowed
to the ladies), is, according to your talented Professor Forbes (he
bowed to Lawrence), about four thousand two hundred yards wide, and all
the ice it contains is, farther down, squeezed through a gorge not more
than seven hundred yards wide, thus forming that grand ice-cascade of
the Talefre which you have seen on the way hither. It is a splendid, as
well as interesting amphitheatre, for it is bounded, as you see, on one
side by the Grandes Jorasses, on the other by Mont Mallet, while
elsewhere you have the vast plateau whence the Glacier du Geant is fed;
the Aiguille du Geant, the Aiguille Noire, the Montagnes Mandites, and
Mont Blanc. Another wing, if you please--ah, finished? No matter, pass
the loaf. It will do as well."

The Professor devoted himself for some minutes in silence to the loaf,
which was much shorn of its proportions on leaving his hand. Like many
great men, he was a great eater. The fires of intellect that burned
within him seemed to require a more than ordinary supply of fuel. He
slept, too, like an infant Hercules, and, as a natural consequence,
toiled like a giant when awake.

Little Gillie White regarded him with feelings of undisguised awe,
astonishment and delight, and was often sorely perplexed within himself
as to whether he or Captain Wopper was the greater man. Both were
colossal in size and energetic in body, and both were free and easy in
manners, as well as good-humoured. No doubt, as Gillie argued with
himself (and sometimes with Susan), the Professor was uncommon larned
an' deep, but then the Captain had a humorous vein, which fully
counterbalanced that in Gillie's estimation.

The philosophic urchin was deeply engaged in debating this point with
himself, and gazing open-mouthed at the Professor, when there suddenly
occurred an avalanche so peculiar and destructive that it threw the
whole party into the utmost consternation. While removing a pile of
plates, Gillie, in his abstraction, tripped on a stone, tumbled over the
artist, crushed that gentleman's head into Nita's lap, and, descending
head foremost, plates and all, into the midst of the feast, scattered
very moraine of crockery and bottles all round. It was an appall