the loveliest valleys in the world. We had left the snow line far behind, and were going through a fertile valley, crossing and recrossing the winding Adige, and passing by small villages and their humble churches and small clusters of huts. We passed by the vineyards which are plentiful in this southern Tyrol, and which produce the cheap and harmless wine known as the Tyrol wine; and groups of Tyrolese women with their quaint attire and their ruddy healthy faces looked at the train as it passed. At last we reached Franzenfeste where the train stopped for twenty minutes and I invested a florin very profitably on soup and roast beef and Tyrol wine!
We soon left behind Brixen which is the see of an ancient Archbishopric founded in the fourth century. We then passed through a very romantic country, the valley narrowing itself into a gorge and the Adige, now stronger and deeper, rushing and sweeping along its stony bed, and washing the foot of the perpendicular rocks that rose from its bed. The valley widened again and we were soon in Botzen, the ancient capital of Tyrol.
Botzen is still the principal place of trade and business in Tyrol, and as it is almost closed by mountains on the north, and is open to southern and mild winds, it is still a favourite place for invalids who seek a healthy resort and a mild climate. After we left Botzen we still went between the rocky walls on both sides of us but the valley began to widen more and more. We passed Trent, formerly the wealthiest town in Tyrol and still a place of much importance, and by 8 p. m. we reached Ala, the frontier town before reaching Italy. An ex-
