"
"Yes, frequently, and always with an appetite. Their home is in a lake
8,290 feet above the sea level."
"No wonder Roland Douglas has spoken so highly of them," said Vaura
gaily; "their relations of the sea are quite under-bred. What
stupendous pieces of work the mountain passes are," she continued; "I
wonder, could Hannibal see them, what he would think of dynamite
_versus_ vinegar, to blast rocks with."
"Or poor, untiring Napoleon and his weary soldiers," said Lady
Esmondet.
"What men there were in the bygone," said Lionel with twice our
strength, twice our endurance; we are weary; though making the run
cushion at back, stimulant in hand."
"We want backbone; our spinal column has given way, by reason of our
fore-fathers' energy," said Vaura, laughingly.
"We certainly could manage an extra backbone very well," said her
god-mother; "ah! what strength I had, when I journeyed South in
seventy-five, I remember we went by rail from Bale to Milan, _via_ the
St. Gotthard road; words are lifeless in describing the scenery along
this route, being grandly, magnificent; one winds in and out among the
mountains; at times in gazing out the coach windows, one's breath is a
prayer, one trembles so at the terrific peaks soaring up and up so far
above one.
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