ay.

The [vS]arka brook trips along gaily towards the Vltava under
overhanging rocks, by wooded slopes and fresh meadows. It tries to be
useful in driving the "Devil's Mill"; that sinister personage seems to
have started quite a number of such concerns in Bohemia. It is a
pleasant little place, tucked away among rocks and trees, and its chief
business appears to be the supplying of refreshments. Of the occasional
rocks that jut out above the trees, one claims to be the jumping-off
place of a Prague damsel who was tired of life; such places are pretty
frequent in all scenery with any pretence to romance. Given a rocky
eminence, you will always find that somebody or other has leapt
therefrom and thus given it a name, the "Maiden's Leap" or the "Knight's
Leap." It is obvious, for instance, that the Vy[vs]ehrad, the rocky
eminence on which stood the first castle of Bohemia's rulers before ever
Prague was built, should have a jumping-off story. A knight was
imprisoned in the Vy[vs]ehrad Castle; he asked leave to ride round the
castle, for change of air no doubt, when suddenly he wheeled about, put
his horse at the river and leapt--of course he got safely away. Let us
hope that the damsel of Prague who leapt into the [vS]arka Valley also
fell soft and got away.

These little valleys that lead down to the river are all the more
delightful as you seem to come upon them by surprise. The general aspect
of the high ground above the river is that of a highly cultivated
undulating country with prim and rather uninteresting-looking clusters
of white-washed cottages gathered round the church-tower with its quaint
bulbous top-hamper which, to my thinking, recalls the Dresden china
_Zwiebel Muster_ of one's youth, but is really supposed to be due to
eastern influence. Again, from the river you see wooded slopes, cherry
orchards and factory chimneys. But turning down towards the river you
suddenly come upon a jolly little tinkling brook, falling over rocks
that peep out of gorse bushes, winding about among lush meadows where
geese chatter contentedly, and seem so far remote from broad acres under
waving corn that you get the "wind on the heath" all to yourself, and
feel yet farther removed from smoking factories. And even these latter
blend with the landscape in a manner which English factories can never
acquire. They are tucked away in cosy little valleys, and even in large
groups do not disturb the harmony of the landscape. They also