The Argosy — page 236: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a In the Black Forest. 219 valleys and searches you out; and probably the next halting place will yield no fire to restore animation. The way from Hornberg to Triberg was perhaps the most pic- turesque bit of the whole drive. ‘The Black Forest railway here twists and turns about the hills; now close to our left hand, far above the level, and now, in a few moments, as by magic, on the opposite heights. Small farms or settlements; here and there a small church ; fruit trees in abundance. A few country people in quaint costumes passed us on the road, and—a pleasant and general custom in the Forest—took off their hats and wished one good day in a voice that seemed to say they were at peace with all mankind. So we reached Triberg ; and winding round by the railway station, up between the hills, entered the long steep street of the thriving little town. Jehu was now on his own territories, his dignity at stake; he cracked his whip and dashed upwards in a way that brought all sorts of heads to all sorts of windows. ‘The hotel was at the further end of the town. A turn to the left, a sharp, short - ascent, and our journey was over. The Schwarzwald Hotel was romantically placed. Apart from the town, it stood alone on the hill side. Fir woods stretched upwards behind it; a waterfall ran its course within a few minutes’ walk, _ almost the prettiest fall in the Black Forest. It forced its way between pine-fringed rocks, ferns and bracken beautified the wild, rugged sides. Dashing noisily over great boulders, emptying its various cascades into seething pools, it finally escaped and rushed through the principal streets of the town in two swiftly flowing channels, so wide that boards or planks were placed ever them before the doors, to enable one to cross the road. Triberg is a rallying point for visitors from all parts of the Black Forest. People make for it from Baden on the one side, from Switzerland on the other. ‘Thus it is quite fashionable and crowded. Amongst other good turns, the coachman had telegraphed for a room, and they had reserved one with a balcony and a charming outlook over the town and the waterfall, the valley and surrounding hills. But the hotel was so crowded that before ten o’clock at night, everyone was turned out of the reading-room, beds were extemporized on sofas and chairs—and one pitied those who had to occupy them. One unfortunate traveller was drafted on to a balcony, where he must have kept company with the spirits of the mist, so blue and shivering did he look the next morning. If adversity makes us acquainted with strange bed-fellows, so travelling sometimes extends our experience to the eccentricities of time and place. COMMICOOOKS.C©