I believe that the great hindrance to the improvement of the paths in the Italian valleys generally is the wide-spread impression that the innkeepers would alone directly benefit by any amelioration of their condition. To a certain extent this view is correct; but inasmuch as the prosperity of the natives is connected with that of the innkeepers, the interests of both are pretty nearly identical. Until their paths are rendered less rough and swampy, I think the Italians must submit to see the golden harvest principally reaped in Switzerland and Savoy. At the same time, let the innkeepers look to the commissariat. Their supplies are not unfrequently deficient in quantity, and, according to my experience, very often deplorable in quality. I will not venture to criticise in detail the dishes which are brought to table, since I am profoundly ignorant of their constitution. It is commonly said amongst Alpine tourists that goat flesh represents mutton, and mule does service for beef and chamois. I reserve my own opinion upon this point until it has been shown what becomes of all the dead mules. But I may say, I hope, without wounding the susceptibilities of my acquaintances among the Italian innkeepers, that it would tend to smoothen their intercourse with their guests if requests for solid food were less frequently regarded as criminal. The deprecating airs with which inquiries for really substantial food are received always remind me of a Dauphiné innkeeper, who remarked that he had heard a good many tourists travel in Switzerland. “Yes,” I answered, “there are a good many.” “How many?” “Well,” I said, “I have seen a hundred or more sit down at a table d’hôte.” He lifted up his hands—“Why,” said he, “they would want meat every day!” “Yes, that is not improbable.” “In that case,” he replied, “_I think we are better without them_.” CHAPTER VI. OUR SIXTH ATTEMPT TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORN.(81) “But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain, The long, long views of poor, designing man.” HOMER. Carrel had _carte blanche_ in the matter of guides, and his choice fell upon his relative Cæsar, Luc Meynet, and two others whose names I do not know. These men were now brought together, and our preparations were completed, as the weather was clearing up. We rested on Sunday, August 9, eagerly watching the lessening of the mists around the great peak, and started just before dawn upon the 10th, on a still and cloudless morning, which seemed to promise a happy termination to our enterprise.