34 A GARDEN OF PLEASURE 



many a year; but at this moment I re- 

 member like yesterday a lovely echo, or 

 group of echoes, somewhere in Switzer- 

 land, I think it was on the Grindelwald, 

 within view of the Great Scheideck. A 

 man played a little tune on an immense 

 shepherd's horn. The travellers listened 

 and after a pause Echo gave back the air 

 note for note with clear and sweet preci- 

 sion; and then from hill to hill her hermit 

 sisters took up the music over and over 

 again till the sounds became small and far, 

 dying away in a fairy-like diminuendo. 

 That is how memory recalls to me the 

 beautiful Fairy of the Scheideck Pass. But 

 our new-comer dwells somewhere near the 

 end of a brick wall partly covered with 

 ivy. She, too, is a fairy, but of coarser 

 mould, and she can only repeat once. I 

 was startled by the sudden mockery early 

 one morning as I called my dog, and I can 

 solemnly affirm that this Echo has only 

 just arrived and settled in the wall; for 

 close by, it is an almost daily occurrence to 

 turn and call the dog in, before shutting 

 the garden gate and we have never before 



