Sunday, 25th—continued.
We Dine.—A Curious Dish.—"A Feeling of Sadness Comes O'er Me."—The German Cigar.—The Handsomest Match in Europe.—"How Easy 'tis for Friends to Drift Apart," especially in a Place like Munich Railway Station.—The Victim of Fate.—A Faithful Bradshaw.—Among the Mountains.—Prince and Pauper.—A Modern Romance.—Arrival at Oberau.—Wise and Foolish Pilgrims.—An Interesting Drive.—Ettal and its Monastery.—We Reach the Goal of our Pilgrimage.
At one o'clock we turned into a restaurant for dinner. The Germans themselves always dine in the middle of the day, and a very substantial meal they make of it. At the hotels frequented by tourists table d'hôte is, during the season, fixed for about six or seven, but this is only done to meet the views of foreign customers.
I mention that we had dinner, not because I think that the information will prove exciting to the reader, but because I wish to warn my countrymen, travelling in Germany, against undue indulgence in Liptauer cheese.
I am fond of cheese, and of trying new varieties of cheese; so that when I looked down the cheese department of the bill of fare, and came across "liptauer garnit," an article of diet I had never before heard of, I determined to sample it.
It was not a tempting-looking cheese. It was an un-
