lecture on the absurdity of calling it a rainy morning, and the
impossibility of staying at home, even if it came on much worse, and
then pointed the way to the true Henri Renaud, half-way down the
village. When I arrived at the place indicated, and consulted a
promiscuous Swiss as to the abode of the object of my search, he
exclaimed, 'Henri Renaud? I am he.' 'But,' it was objected, 'it is the
_marchand de bois_ who is wanted.' 'Precisely, Henri Renaud, marchand de
bois; it is I.' 'But, it is the cutter of ice in the glacière.' 'Ah, a
different Henri. That Henri is in bed in the house yonder,' and so at
last he was found. When finally unearthed, Henri confessed that when he
had said _spring_ the day before, he ought to have said _autumn_, and
that by autumn he meant November and December. Enquiries elsewhere
showed that the end of summer was what he really meant, if he meant to
tell the truth.

Our route for the glacière followed the high road which leads by the
Asile de Marchairuz to La Vallée, as far as the well-known Châlet de la
S. Georges; and then the character of the way changed rapidly for the
worse, and we took to the wet woods. After a time, the wood ceased for a
while, and a large expanse of smooth rock showed itself, rising slightly
from the horizontal, and so slippery in its present wet condition that
we could not pass up it. Then woods again, and then the montagnes of
_Sous la Roche_, and _La Foireuse_, till at last, in two hours, the Pré
de S. Livres was achieved. The fog was so dense that nothing could be
seen of the general lie of the country; but the _thalweg_ was a
sufficient guide, and after due perseverance we came upon the glacière,
not many yards from that line, on the north slope of the open valley,
about 4,500 feet above the sea.

To prevent cattle from falling into the pit, a wall has been built round