Saturday May 8

Of course our first walk was to the P.O., and we received your postal of the 28 from Memphis. Hurrah for you! I am tickled and I know Bro Becker gave an unusual long whistle. Well, I knew that you could do it. You say Augusta, where the dickens is Augusta? I know, but the one in Georgia.

 

We haven’t gone to see any sights, the good old mountains are enough for me, and I often stop and lean up against a house and look and look and drink in the grandeur of God’s works. Innsbruck for me. And so “Gemutlich,” and such a fine and pleasant host and such good eating, genuine German and home like and no crowd of tourists around you, just six of us, as far as I can see. You have no idea how good the 12 heller (2-l/2¢) Austrian cigar tastes to me while I sit in the garden and look down upon this grand panorama.

Emily climbed 1000 feet higher with a young lady from Denver who arrived today. They have struck up a tourist friendship, and tonight we sang American songs. But cold, that is, in the house, outside it is sunshine and warm, but these cement built houses certainly hold the cold. We have to ask for a fire (extra) in our room. Well, it’s all right anyhow.