TYROL AND THE TYROLESE 



rise white against the blue of the cloudless sky, the 

 first beams of the rising sun gleam golden through 

 the mists of morning, the last rays of the departing 

 day linger in the rosy west to hear again the salu- 

 tation of the mountaineer, the sweet " God greet 

 thee ! " to feel once more the friendly clasp of his 

 firm strong hand? 

 I think not ! 



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