im Schnee der Alpen . A hyacinth in a pot, a handful of primroses packed in moss, or a piece of music by someone who knows the way to the heart of a violin, are things that, in this invariable sameness of the snows and frosty air, surprise you like an adventure. It is droll, moreover, to compare the respect with which the invalids attend a concert, and the ready contempt with which they greet the dinnertime performers. Singing which they would hear with real enthusiasm⁠—possibly with tears⁠—from a corner of a drawing-room, is listened to with laughter when it is offered by an unknown professional and no money has been taken at the door.