more charming to my English eyes; there
were tufts of the small Alpine gentian, with
its peacock blue, so gorgeous in the sunshine;
there was the golden ball of the Tollius; there
were oxlips of pale cream-colour; and a lovely
flower, the name of which I do not know— its
blossom precisely like that of our lilac garden
verbenum, but its leaves soft and tender, and
of an oval shape. I fancy it is a small lilac
primula; for it has the same faint, vernal
perfume as our greenhouse primula; it is a lovely
little flower, and the fields round Starnberg
are full of it. Then, on the rocky parts of the
hill I found, creeping over the short turf, a
little plant with a cistus leaf and a pea-shaped
blossom of orange and delicate buff. Imagine
the lovely bouquet I gathered, and its delicate
perfume! I was ready to endure any
disappointment in breakfast, after such good
fortune in flower-hunting. And well for me
that it was so! For, firstly, our pleasant
breakfast-table was discovered to be planted
in the very centre of an ants' nest; and,
secondly, our déjeûner à la fourchette consisted
of boiled beef like boiled india-rubber, of bad
potato-salad, mixed with rank oil and coarse
vinegar, of flabby veal and wretched coffee!
But our spirits being as gay as the morning,
not even this heavy fare could depress them.
Groups of people were already regaling
themselves beneath the trees round the house;
waiters, male and female, were rushing madly
about, in and out; and as our eyes wandered
over the lake, little boats, gay with their
display of blue-and-white flags, were seen
traversing the broad expanse of water in
every direction; and far off, like the wings of
some huge bird, were discerned the white
sails of a small yacht, belonging to an English
resident at Munich; whilst real white wings,
the wings of large gulls, dipped ever and
anon into the sunny waves, and then soared
joyously into the sunny air. Cannon now
boomed across the lake, and we hastened
down to the crowd of peasants assembled on
the shore, expecting to see the steamer
approach; but she still lay a lifeless black mass
in the far distance, and as King Max is not,
like our Victoria, famed for punctuality, we
preferred once more pursuing our voyage, and
awaiting the steamer yet farther up the lake.
There was " music in Possenhofen," said the
programme of the fête. Possenhofen lay just
opposite us; we would first call at Lione,
the romantic name of which seemed greatly
to attract us, and then we would cross
over to Possenhofen. But where was our
boatman? Gone!— No matter, he was such
a surly fellow, said we; and whilst we looked
about for a fresh boat, behold, one
approaching the shore, filled with some dozen students,
and rowed by a woman! "What a sight that
is to an Englishman!" exclaimed Mr. Grunen;
"just look at it— all those stout young fellows
rowed by a girl!" I looked, and discovered,
as the boat drew near, that this female
mariner was extremely handsome— and so also
discovered my companions. "Let us go in her
boat!" we all exclaimed, and were
immediately seated in it, and on our way to Lione.
Signor N. wanted to row, but the girl laughed
merrily at him, seized the heavy oars, and
with stalwart arms and vigorous strokes
pulled away, the heavy old boat rapidly pro-
fessing towards Lione. "You know how to
row!" she exclaimed, in her broad patois—
and her lively grey eyes laughed merrily
beneath her black head-gear, and her rosy
lips showed the whitest set of little teeth in
the world. How handsome she was! Large
of frame, with round, well-developed arms and
hands, which were seen to wonderful
advantage as she plied the oars; they were burnt a
ruddy brown by the sun, but were almost
perfect in form.

Between the black handkerchief she had
tied hood-wise over her head, and which,
throwing her face half into shadow, fell upon
her shoulders, and the orange striped
handkerchief crossed over her bosom and tucked
into her black boddice, you saw a round
snowy throat; her face was of an oval contour,
with delicate features, yet full of strength, and
animation perfectly charming. Picture to
yourselves how pleasantly she laughed and
nodded to her old father, who passed us,
dressed in a scarlet waistcoat and white
sleeves, rowing another boat; and picture to
yourselves how the sunshine showered down
upon her, seated towards the end of the boat,
in her quaint peasant costume, of blue woollen
petticoat, bright blue stockings, heavy shoes,
black boddice, with pink sleeves tucked up
above the elbow, and showing a piece
of scarlet lining, orange handkerchief, and
black head-dress; beyond her the azure and
silver sky; and her round arms vigorously
plying the oars, which ever, unceasingly,
dipped into the clear green waters;—
picture to yourselves her and the scene, and
tell me, had we not a delightful vision before
our eyes? And as we glided past the greenest
of beech-woods, the grassiest of meadows, with
the sounds of distant music in our ears, ever
and anon some gay festal party, with a banner
of white and blue at the boat's prow,
sometimes a wreath falling from it into the
pleasant sunny water, passed us, or was seen in
the distance, slowly progressing across the
lake, like some large water-beetle. We only
stopped at Lione long enough to imagine how
pleasant a whole summer's day— or a whole
summer, in truth— would be amid its woods
and meadows, with one's abode in one of its
little Tyrolean houses. And now we arrived
at Possenhofen! Here is a villa belonging to
one of the Royal Duchesses, its pleasant
gardens extending down to the water's edge.
A crowd of country-people swarmed about
the bran-new steam-boat pier here, as at all
the stations along the lake. Stepping on land,
I saw a refreshing bit of Munich artist-life.
Upon a tiny, tiny promontory, which jutted
out into the lake, amid deep grass, and all the