fowl shows itself in three hours more, be
thankful!" And verily I believe we might
have waited and dined at the ball-supper
itself, had not our benevolent acquaintance
volunteered to rush into the kitchen, and lay
violent hands upon the first food he saw.
Soon, amid his looks of triumph, we beheld
the advent of our dinner.

During all this waiting we had lost the
Regatta. Still our impatience had been
somewhat calmed by a scene which took place in
the room where we sate. Musicians ascended
into the gallery— of course, I supposed, the
ball was about to commence, and that we and
the long dinner-tables must decamp— but it was
only that as the name of each successful
competitor in the Regatta received his prize, the
musicians might trumpet forth his triumph.
A man with a white cockade on his coat read
aloud the names of the successful boatmen,
and, from a crowd of weather-beaten men at
the opposite end of the room, one by one,
with bashful mien and delighted faces, they
approached and received the prizes and
decorations. Of course many of the company
in the garden crowded into the room to
witness the spectacle.

Thankful was I when, at length, we emerged
from the stifling room into the fresh air
without. There all was animation; people arriving
for the ball; people chatting, laughing, and
drinking beer, wine, and coffee. Evening now
was come. As we descended towards the
lake, all looked so lovely in the sunset light,
that again we said, "Suppose we take a
boat!" The mountain peaks glowed with
lilac and rose tints, the pearly sky was flecked
with crimson and pale orange cloudlets; on
one hand rose the moon; on the other sank
the sun behind the green, sloping banks of
the lake, now turning dark in the
approaching twilight. Moon and sunset clouds were
reflected in the calm waters; now one star
came forth in the clear heaven; now another
above the darkling mountains; a deep silence
sank over all, only broken by the dip of the
oars, and the singing of my companions. A
fire suddenly busting forth on the shore, its
ruddy flame reflected in the lake reminded
us or the illumination, and we hastened our
return.

As we set foot on terra firma a loud
chorus of frogs greeted us, far out-croaking
the sounds of merriment from the little town.
Lights shone from all the hotel windows,
telling of merry doings within; crowds filled
the street; crowds filled the gardens; the
pavilion in the garden, where we had dined
and where was the ball-room, gleamed out
like a huge lantern. We looked in, as I was
curious to see who the dancers at this rural
ball would be. The ball, itself, had not yet
commenced, but the supper had. Ladies, not
in regular evening costume, but with flowers,
nevertheless, in their hair, and gentlemen,
who had smartened themselves up somewhat
after the dust and fatigue of the day, were
seated eating at a long table in a sort of
gallery in front of the ball-room; through
an open door you caught a glimpse of the
ball-room, all lighted up and gay with blue,
scarlet, and white festooned draperies,
supported on the walls by gilt anchors.

The report of cannon told us that the
fireworks were about to commence, and people
hastened down into the meadows. Up rose a
rocket, like a long snake of fire, falling in
lilac stars into the lake— another, and
another! Then, suddenly, the conventual-
looking building on the hill above Starnberg,
gleamed out magically through the soft gloom
of the May night, illuminated with a warm
rose-colour; now with a pale yellow green,
as though it were built of tinted light. And
the little church across the lake, crowning the
hill above Lione, gleamed forth a spectral
sea-green, a pale ghost, as though replying
to the signal of Starnberg. Villas, churches,
and villages exchanged these spectral greetings
across the serene lake, which ever reflected
them in its peaceful mirror. And from the
shores shot up in rapid succession long red
tongues of flame, like sacrificial fires burning
upon pagan altars; the flame rising steadily
into the unruffled air, and reflected in the
unruffled waters; whilst smoke curled in
white volumes, ruddily illuminated by the
fires.

Above all, shone down the quiet silver
moon, smiling through the May heaven, and
reflecting her calm face in a little rivulet
which murmured through the meadow. The
moonlight glimmered like frosted silver upon
the ripple of the rivulet, and upon the long
grass, which, in places, grew in the stream,
and was swept by the current, just covered
over by the water. All else, except this
grass and ripple, was a transparent,
murmuring gloom: whilst across the frosted
silver, black shadows of sprays and grasses
from the stream-bank were cast with the
most exquisite and marvellous delicacy. And,
in the midst of these illuminations, human
and divine, the steamer, hung with lamps, was
to sail forth into the lake again;— was to,
and, I have no doubt, did sail forth. We,
however, were not there to see her; for,
now we mounted into our omnibus, and jolted
home. The moon shining down among the
old pine-trees in the Royal Park, and showing
us, not only the trees and the long procession
of royal carriages, which, with six horses to
each, postilions, and fiery lamps, rushed past
us; but groups of deer also quietly feeding
by the road-side. At one place I saw a milk-
white doe white as a phantom doe might be;
and, as she heard the sound of wheels, she
fled affrighted into the dark glades of the
wood. We were by no means sorry once
more to find ourselves in Munich after our
long, jolting ride, and, as we walked to our
homes through the silent streets and squares,
so brilliantly illuminated by the moonlight,
all was so profoundly silent, that one felt