GLACIER DE MARTINET.

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M. Wagner, I observed with alarm that, three or four times, he bent down with his head very near the ground, as if he were ill; and I was not much less apprehensive on the score of his health when M told me, he was only drinking, as for a man, who for years had evinced almost as great a dislike to cold water as if he had been afflicted with hydrophobia, to be suddenly seized with so violent a passion for the pure element, was almost as alarming an indication of disease; and when, at last, on reaching a rill more seductive than the rest, he threw himself flat on his stomach, and, plunging his face in, drank at the icy waters till I had fear of the supply being stopped, I began to think it was all over with him, until I saw him rise from his recumbent position, walking the remainder of the distance with a firmer step, and heard him declare that never in his life had he tasted water so good, for that the more he drank the more he felt he must drink.'

After full half an hour's discussion as to how, we never got as far as when, the ice was to be hewn and taken thence to Bex, we came unanimously to the following resolutions:-1st. That the distance was too great. 2ndly. That there was no road for beast or vehicle. 3rdly. That to make one would take half a century, and cost as much as the piercing of the

Simplon. 4thly. That granted it could be brought down, to transport it such a distance in the intense heat of summer, would be to run the probable risk of finding it ice no longer on its arriving at Bex. And that, 6thly and lastly, the ice was much better where it was, both for M. Wagner's pocket and the pleasure of future tourists.

Our descent was accomplished rapidly enough, for when we came to the sloping valleys of ice, of which we had some half-dozen to cross, we eschewed the trouble of using our legs, and, sitting down, gave ourselves a shove, and were at the bottom before we could get our breaths. The alarm of our poor dog was distressing to witness. She dared not follow, and yet was so fearful of being left behind, that in her excitement she had not the sagacity to make a détour, but in the end, after a good many extempore rolls and upsets, she squatted down on her haunches and succeeded in reaching us; and I must not forget to record that from some cause, possibly from both having undergone grievous sufferings during the excursion, she conceived a violent liking for M. Wagner, which exists to this day.

We did not get back to dinner at one; on the contrary, the sun was declining as we descended from the Pont de Nant, and when we came into the

narrow road leading to the goat-sheds we found our children feeding the pretty frisky creatures, the tinkle of whose bells had been such pleasant music preceding us nearly all the way from the Châlets du Nant. M. Wagner lost his fondness for water long before reaching Les Plans, and revenged himself for his abstemiousness by diminishing the stock of Madame Bernard's white wine before he returned to Bex.

CHAPTER XI.

Superstitions-Sunsets-Louise-The Avençon-The Young Tailleuse's Story-Drowned Dead-Fête of Mi-été-Dogs and Cows-Chevrier-Colony of Artists-Fight with a Bullock-Critics-Ahead of the Blooomers-Winter and Summer-Seven Days' Rain-Night at Story-telling.

HAPPY as were all the hours that flew, alas! too swiftly, at Les Plans, none to me were so delightful as those of evening, when the hush and repose of twilight came over the happy valley, and my thoughts, released from the occupations and excitements of the day, had leisure to dwell upon the enchanting sights and sounds around me. The peasants, returned from their daily toil, were seated in groups on the grass, or, imitating our example, wandered up and down among the châlets, enjoying, though with less emctional sensations, the seductive influence of the hour. I think I hear them talking, as with hushed voices they recounted to each other the tales of a supernatural character, of which they are so fond; of the encounters, each one having some individual experience to relate, with the spirits of departed acquaintances, that haunt the spots where, during life, they have

committed some crime, until they meet some unlucky mortals who, ignorant of their condition, address them three times, and are henceforth compelled to bear the burden of the sin, until such time as they too are fortunate enough to dispose of it to some one else in the same manner and place.

Though professing themselves Protestants, they have an unconquerable dread of the monks, who are supposed to possess the power of exorcising demons, and of inflicting the most fearful torments, even unto death, upon anyone who may have. been guilty of any sort of offence towards them; and endless are the tales of persons wasting away and shrivelling up from the effect of the spells thrown around them, by these powerful ministers of the devil. Most of the peasants believe in the existence of a spirit, half fairy, half imp, that is kind or evil towards them according to their conduct in life. If they are well-behaved and industrious, these creatures, they say, sometimes visit their houses during the night, and, after finishing any work that has been left undone, leave all clean and in order; on the other hand, if they have been idle, dirty, and wasteful, they may happen to find a double amount of disorder reigning in their dwellings when they rise in a morning. To provide for the material