good food, and from the windows, one of the finest prospects in the
world, might well tempt many to linger here in spite of the disturbance
above mentioned. For the lover of flowers this halting-place would be
delightful.

Next morning the day dawned fair, and by eight o'clock we set off with a
guide for the ascent of the Hoheneck, rather, I should say, for a long
ramble over gently undulating green and flowery ways. After climbing a
little beechwood, all was smoothness under our feet, and the long
_detour_ we had to make in order to reach the summit was a series of
the gentlest ascents, a wandering over fair meadow-land several thousand
feet above the sea-level. Here we found the large yellow gentian, used in
the fabrication of absinthe, and the bright yellow arnica, whilst instead
of the snow-white flower of the Alpine anemone, the ground was now
silvery with its feathery seed; the dark purple pansy of the Vosges was
also rare. We were a month too late for the season of flowers, but the
foxglove and the bright pink Epilobium still bloomed in great luxuriance.

It was a walk to remember. The air was brisk and genial, the blue sky
lightly flecked with clouds, the turf fragrant with wild thyme, and
before our eyes we had a panorama every moment gaining in extent and
grandeur. As yet indeed the scene, the features of which we tried to make
out, looked more like cloudland than solid reality. On clear days are
discerned here, far beyond the rounded summits of the Vosges chain, the
Rhine Valley, the Black Forest, the Jura range, and the snow-capped Alps.
To-day we saw grand masses of mountains piled one above the other, and
higher still a pageantry of azure and gold that seemed to belong to the
clouds.

No morning could promise fairer, but hardly had we reached the goal of