other’s rights as they do their own. There are no castes to clash, no lower class to assert itself in rudeness, and no higher class to provoke rudeness by insolent assumption. They maintain old-fashioned habits of courteous hospitality, and the workmen in the field will shout out to the passer-by a kindly _guten tag_ or _guten abend_, with the _a_ prolonged beyond the amen of a chant, and the children invariably take off their caps or drop a courtesy. Even the pastoral beggars present a species of attractive mendicity, as the little children come out to meet you with offerings of Alpine roses, cherries on their branches, and strawberries in the leaves, extending their hands, with the common entreaty--_bitte, bitte_ (pray do). We hear a great deal of the peasant’s chalet. Though very picturesque in appearance, as they glisten in the sunbeams on the slopes or dot the pastoral valleys, these chalets are by no means such charming dwellings as often pictured. Owing to the original abundance of timber, it was almost the only material employed in the building of these houses. There are practically three styles: the so-called block-house, in which the logs are laid one upon the other, notched at the ends so as to fit into each other at the angles where they cross; the post-built house, in which upright posts and a strong framework are filled in with planks; and the _riegelhaus_, with brick or stone. All soon become dark-brown of hue, and are quaint and distinctive in form. They are covered with low flat roofs of shingles, weighted with stones to prevent them from being carried away by the wind; the roofs overhang the walls like the brim of a hat, widened to protect the face from the rain, and are frequently shaped and sculptured by the knife with curious and patient skill. There is a peculiarly sheltered look in the broad projection of the thatched roofs, which, with the thick covering of moss, and their visible beams, making all kinds of triangles upon the ancient plaster of the walls, are very odd and attractive things. The low panelled rooms are innocent of gilding and of painting, but are cleanliness itself. Hollow niches over the doors contain statues of the Virgin, heroes, or saints. The plain benches, tables, cupboards, and chairs are made of the whitest wood, and are so scoured, washed, and polished that to paint or varnish them would be to defile them. Most articles of furniture are quaintly shaped and ornamented, old looking, but rubbed bright and in good preservation, from the nut-cracker, curiously carved, to the double-necked cruet, pouring oil and vinegar out of the same bottle. They are heated with porcelain stoves, cylindrical in shape, two and a half to three feet in diameter, reaching from the floor almost to the ceiling, and bound with bright brass rings to give them strength. These stoves are built of white enamelled tile, which is two or three inches in thickness, and