268 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
stood we could see the books on the library shelves. 
A swing and some gymnastic appliances on the lawn 
told us that there were children. Altogether, I thought 
I had never seen such a charming picture of silent 
comfort and security. Perhaps the barren prospects we 
had been accustomed to—made the little oasis before 
us look more cheerful than we might otherwise have 
thought it. 
The question now arose, what was to be done ? My 
principal reason for coming to Alten was to buy some 
salt provisions and Lapland dresses; but dolls and junk 
were scarcely a sufficient pretext for knocking up a 
quiet family at three o’clock in the morning. It is true, 
I happened to have a letter for Mr. T-, written by 
a mutual friend, who had expressly told me that—arrive 
when I might at Alten,—tlie more unceremoniously 
I walked in and took possession of the first unoccupied 
bed I stumbled on, the better Mr. T-would be 
pleased; but British punctilio would not allow me to 
act on the recommendation, though we were sorely tired. 
In the mean time the mosquitoes had become more 
intolerable than ever. At last, half mad with irritation, 
I set off straight up the side of the nearest mountain, 
