OUNTAIN STREAM.]

And the butcher, who had grown quite pathetic over the gentians, rose
to return to his occupation. It was curious to observe the honorable
position which he held with landlord, landlady and Moidel. What a
surgeon or soldier would be in a higher class, that the butcher was
to them. In this case, too, we joined in respect--a feeling we might
entertain for many more of his trade, perhaps, had we the opportunity
of judging. But we must onward.

Ere long a young woman wearing a pointed black felt hat, ornamented
with yellow everlastings, overtook us and joined company with Moidel,
giving us, however, equally the benefit of her conversation, whilst
she insisted upon carrying a bag. She lived in Rein, she told us, and
had now to consult the doctor in Taufers a second time about perpetual
stitching pains in her throat. The doctor said it was quinsy, and
arose from cold. Perhaps, she said, if she could bring herself to
smoke a meerschaum, like other women in Rein, she might keep the
mischief out; but it struck her as a disgrace to a female, and it made
a great hole in the pocket. Those who were born in such a village
as Rein were in an evil plight. The cottages were badly built, the
kitchens reeked with smoke, and were so bitterly cold in winter,
though the fowls had to roost there, that water froze in them. In
fact, no one could stay in the kitchen in winter. Then all the family
must crowd into the stube, living and sleeping there. When Nanni
Muckhaus had the typhus she and her children and grandchildren must
lie down together; and then all the neighbors had to visit her, unless
they chose to pass as brutes; and so that was how the typhus spread.
Fortunately, her husband and she were alone: they had no burdens.
Still, life was hard--a vale of tears or a vale of snow. If the gentry
could see the Reinthal in the winter, choked up with avalanches, they
would say so. Her man had, however, enough to keep them. He had a
license for the shooting of gemsen and other game, which he might use
from holy Jakobi's Day to Candlemas. He had this year killed only
five gemsen so far. The Post at Taufers was greedy for gemsen now,
and bought up every ounce of the flesh at nineteen kreuzers the
pound--bought snow-hens, too, at forty kreuzers each, and would never
let her husband's gun be idle. When Candlemas came, and he could no
longer shoot, then he worked in their fields; for we might not think
it, but he, being a thrifty s