DIARY OF A PILGRIMAGE.
85
For fifty miles before one reaches Munich, the land is flat, stale, and apparently very unprofitable, and there is little to interest the looker-out. He sits straining his eyes towards the horizon, eagerly longing for some sign of the city to come in sight.
It lies very low, however, and does all it can to escape observation; and it is not until he is almost within its streets that he discovers it.
