"And that the most exquisite spot we have found this summer!"
"Certainly we are not tired of the beautiful things!"
From this avalanche of replies Jimmie gathered an idea of our attitude.
"Thank you!" he said, politely. "I think I understand. Would you consent to turn aside to see the Königsee, another small lake which belongs more to the natives than to the tourists?"
For reply, we simply rose in concert. Mrs. Jimmie drew on her gloves and Bee pulled down her veil.
"When do we get off, Jimmie?"
"In ten minutes," he said with a delighted grin. And in another ten minutes we were off, and Salzburg was removed another twenty-four hours from us.
But after the Achensee, the Königsee was something of an anticlimax, although the natives were perfectly satisfactory, and not an English word was spoken outside of our party. But as Jimmie speaks German-American, we got what we wanted in the way of a boat, and found that the Königsee is quite as green as the Achensee is blue. At least it was the day we were there. The tiny Tyrolese lad who went with us as guide, told us that it was sometimes as blue as the sky. But the black shadows cast upon its waters by the steep cliffs which rise sheerly from its sides, give back their darkness to the depths of the lake, and for the scene of a picturesque murder it would be perfect. There is a magnificent echo around certain parts of the Königsee, and swans sailing majestically on the breast of the lake remind one of the Lohengrin country.
We rested that night at a dear little inn and the next morning took up our interrupted journey to Salzburg.
On the way Jimmie talked salt mines to us until, when we arrived at Salzburg, we imagined the whole town must be given up to them. But to our surprise, and no less to our delight, we found Salzburg not only one of the most picturesque towns we had met with, but interesting and highly satisfactory, while the salt mines are not at Salzburg at all, but half a day's drive away. Salzburg satisfied the entire emotional gamut of our diversified and centrifugal party. It had mountains for Jimmie, the rushing, roaring, picturesque little river Salzach for me, the Residenz-Schloss, where the Grand Duke of Tuscany lives part of his time, for Mrs. Jimmie and Bee, and the glorious views from every direction for all of us. Here, also, Bee found her restaurants, with bands, situated more delightfully than any we had found before.