There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. She is, in her way, a dear. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. ” “Too much character, and too little sentiment,” he answered. " "Help! help!" shrieked Mrs.
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