Higher up in the valley, under the shade of high trees, the Prince had built a shooting-box, and surrounded it with a simple garden. Under its roof the Princess arranged a tiny room very artistically. One gazes through coloured windows upon the groups of fir trees of a hundred years’ growth. A simple desk covered with cloth, a pair of chairs, and a low table laden with books, paint brushes, and colours are all its furniture. It is the sanctum of the Princess, to which she retires when the stream of visitors who unceasingly come out to Sinaia have fatigued her. Here she can write, paint, and compose poetry undisturbed. Scientific men, musicians, and painters are constantly invited to Sinaia, and are often for weeks the guests of the princely pair. Here they lead an ideal life. Intercourse with distinguished people, be they artists or learned or otherwise clever men, is the great delight of the Prince and Princess. They love to gaze, as it were, into the workshop whence thought has sprung, and have a deep regard for the earnestness of labour in art or science. Gaiety and cheerfulness reign in these circles. Often the Princess will read to the assembled company at breakfast a poem she has just completed, that treats of their conversations or the events of the day, with youthful cheerfulness. By noon the winged words have already been set to music by one of the musicians, and presented to the Princess as a duet, trio, or quartette, according to the voices of those present. In the evening these new compositions are performed, and the young people end the day with dances and games. Long walks and climbing parties are undertaken during the fine weather. Accompanied by the sound of the waves of the restless Pelesch, one climbs along grassy walks into the steep beech woods. In a convenient costume for mountaineering, the Princess, hat in hand, leads the way for the joyous company. She feels at home in the woods or in the mountains: they are her kingdom, and there her fancy is free. The following poem was composed on the 12th of September 1873, under the trees near the shooting-box:-- MY COMRADES. “We dwelt together, where flows the Rhine, The forest and I and these songs of mine, In the days when my life was young. And we whispered low to the silver stream, When its ripples were kissed by the moon’s pure beam, What we fancied and dreamed and sung. But a fateful hour there dawned for me, When I sought, afar from my comrades three, In the glittering east a home: Farewell, I cried, I am sad at heart, Ye friends of my childhood, for we must part; Will none of you with me come? Then the Rhine and the forest shook each his head-- Too old to wander, are we, they said, Although we have held thee dear. But lo! when I reached this eastern land, The rhymes came round me, a merry band, For my songs had followed me here!”