led the butcher in to tell us its name. The man, having
at that moment ended his first stroke of business, came in red-handed,
and proved a botanist. It was a _Woodsia hyperborea_--that was the
Latin name--and was rare in those parts, he said; but the Herrschaft
should come earlier for flowers. July was the month. Then there was
geum, and pale blue-fringed campanulas, and rich lilac asters, yellow
violets, the white scented wax-flower, arnica and yellow aconite, both
excellent medicines; there were thunder-flowers, and blood-drops, and
grass of Parnassus, and hundreds more, all cut down by the scythes.
There were four thousand plants and upward in the Tyrol; only, alas!
like the gentians, many species were being perfectly exterminated.

His energy interested us, and his hands were under the table. Frau
Anna expressed great disappointment at the various beautiful gentians,
common in Switzerland, being rare in the Tyrol.

"Ladies," replied the botanist with emphasis, "you know not the
reason? Why, there is hardly a species of gentian which is not torn
up by the roots for the making of schnapps. Schnapps is good when
rheumatism works in the bones: there is then no better lotion; and
a thimbleful of cheerfulness in the morning, and another of sleep at
night, are what I wish for our wirth, myself and every peasant daily;
but why need they pull up all the gentians, which were bits of heaven
scattered over the mountain-sides? I know that their roots are better
for schnapps distilling than those of other plants, or even than
bilberries or cranberries; but oh for a little moderation, cutting the
roots gently! for whilst a bit is left in the ground the plant springs
up again. 'Poor as a root-grubber' is the proverb. I'm glad it is.
For if they were not so wanton, they would not be so poor. They mostly
come from the Zillerthal. It's a special trade. The men climb the
mountains as soon as the snow melts. They build themselves rude huts,
and spend the summer searching for and digging up roots. Now, however,
as they have cut their own throats, so to speak, they must climb often
to high mountain-ledges, letting themselves down by ropes, to gather
fine roots, which they still sometimes find of the thickness of my
wrist. In the late autumn they collect their bundles of dried gentian
roots, which they carry to the distilling vats, where the _Enzian_, so
dear to the Tyroler, is made."

[Illustration: COWS COMING DOWN THE HILLSIDE BY A M