EGLTSAU.

281

Rliine, of which we continue to obtain, as it twists and turnsin its course among a pcrfect atnphitheatre of hüls, occasionalglimpses, flowing between the steep green slopes of its escarpedand moat-like Channel, broad as a wide street, and green asthe vineyards striping its banks.

A few miles farthcr, and we arrive at the town of Eglisau.As the diligence wincls zigzag down the hill on the oppositeside of the river to that on which the village Stands, the viewis pretty enough of the two long lines of houses perched oneabove the other on the shelving river banks—•with the ter-raced or quai-like roadway stretching at its base, and the tallhouses next the river looking as lanky as storks, and givingyou a notion—like, the old houses in the Cannongate inEdinburgh — of the parlours and kitchens being some fouror five storeys high—and with the white walls, too, glitteringlike so much snow in the sun, and making the green floodimmediately bclow them ahnost like milk. Then the coveredbridge reaching from shore to sliore seems as you look downupon it like a long rüde Noah's Ark, resting on the almostemerald water that still fiows through a sloping Channel, thebanks of which, as reflected in the stream, are hardly greenerthan the tide itself.

The hüls round about are finely humped and rounded likecameis' backs, their summits brown with the red of theautumnal oaks, and their sides here and there loosely girt witha delicate scarf of' white mist. As we slide down towards thetown—-with the horses almost on their haunches—we come tothe gate-tower, and then passing the small "posle bureau,"with a white cross painted on its red sign of a shield without, weenter the long, dark, wooden tube of the bridge,— a coveredway that, with its huge timbers at the side and rafters overhead,and with the light Streaming in at the portholes along the