that, and he salutes us almost like a gentleman. And he is really a kind of Alpine gentleman; assists us politely across the mountain torrent; points out to us a better way amongst the labyrinthine paths, and accompanies us himself, talking whilst he does the honors of his little country estate. Yes, he really is a landed proprietor. The little hill yonder he has cultivated with his own hands, and planted with potatoes and beans, and even dug and sowed a little hay-field; and he will dig and cultivate till the whole circuit of little hills has become fertilized. He lives here alone; is already old, but contented with his lot. He has also his good qualities; he appears pious and peaceful—a happy man.
We now return home to our valley.
It is evening. See how the sun gilds the naked mountain tops in the east, Rubli-horn and the cupolas of the Mittags Mountain! Now it is gone, and how soon it becomes dark in the valley! The peace of evening drops down over man and beast; but still, on every hand, is heard the chorus of the cattle-bells amongst the mountains. When all else is gone to rest in the valley, this is still heard. Towards ten o'clock even that has become silent, and the chirp of the crickets and the soft murmuring Sarine are the only sounds audible in the quiet valley of Rossinières.
But if the valley goes to rest betimes, so is it also early in motion. Already before five in the morning, the goats and the cows come up for milking. Smoke rises from the cottages, and all the doors begin to slam in our great cottage. I live as the valley lives; rise early, and am early to bed; and it just suits me.
The people in the valley are peaceable and indus-
