inconvenience. Here, too, I have discovered such a snug, comfortable
place, which possesses peculiar charms for me.

About a league from the town is a place called Walheim. (The reader
need not take the trouble to look for the place thus designated.
We have found it necessary to change the names given in the original.)
It is delightfully situated on the side of a hill; and, by proceeding
along one of the footpaths which lead out of the village, you can
have a view of the whole valley. A good old woman lives there,
who keeps a small inn. She sells wine, beer, and coffee, and is
cheerful and pleasant notwithstanding her age. The chief charm
of this spot consists in two linden-trees, spreading their enormous
branches over the little green before the church, which is entirely
surrounded by peasants' cottages, barns, and homesteads. I have
seldom seen a place so retired and peaceable; and there often have
my table and chair brought out from the little inn, and drink my
coffee there, and read my Homer. Accident brought me to the spot
one fine afternoon, and I found it perfectly deserted. Everybody
was in the fields except a little boy about four years of age, who
was sitting on the ground, and held between his knees a child about
six months old: he pressed it to his bosom with both arms, which
thus formed a sort of arm-chair; and, notwithstanding the liveliness
which sparkled in its black eyes, it remained perfectly still.
The sight charmed me. I sat down upon a plough opposite, and
sketched with great delight this little picture of brotherly
tenderness. I added the neighbouring hedge, the barn-door, and
some broken cart-wheels, just as they happened to lie; and I found
in about an hour that I had made a very correct and interesting
drawing, without putting in the slightest thing of my own. This
confirmed me in my resolution of adhering, for the future, entirely