t of Mont Blanc reposing like a monarch in the midst of them.

There was a curious covered walk along on one side of this lawn. It was
a walk covered with foliage. It was walled in on the sides, too, as well
as covered above with the foliage. Two hedges had been planted, one on
each side; and as they had grown, the leaves and branches had been
trimmed off straight and smooth like a wall. Then the tops had been
trained to meet overhead, and the foliage had been trimmed square and
flat on the upper side, and in an arch on the under side. So dense was
the growth of the leaves and branches that the whole alley was closely
and completely enclosed, so that it would not have been possible to look
out of it at all, had it not been that a row of square openings like
windows had been made on the side towards the lake. Any one could look
out and view the scenery through these openings as he walked along.

Voltaire used to compose his works in this alley, it was said. He would
walk up and down, and dictate as he walked to his amanuensis, who sat
near at hand with pen and ink to write down the philosopher's words.

After this the domestic conducted the party through a wood, and showed
them a tree which Voltaire had planted. It was now a tree of great size,
and apparently far advanced in age.

Rollo took very little interest in this tree, and even his father and
mother did not appear to pay much attention to it. It seemed, however,
that other visitors had not felt the same indifference to it, for those
who had come to see it had picked off and cut off so many pieces of bark
to carry away as relics that the tree, on one side had become entirely
excoriated, and there was danger that in the end the poor sufferer from
these depredations would be killed. In order to protect it, therefore,
from any further injury, the proprietor had surrounded it with a little
circular paling, so that now nobody could come near enough to touch the
tree.

Rollo was glad when the visit to this place was ended; so he ran on
before his father and mother in going out, and was on his seat by the
side of the postilion long before they came to the carriage.

Ferney, though so near to Geneva, is within the confines of France, and
the carriage passed the line between the two countries in going home.
There was a little custom house and two or three armed policemen at the
frontier; but the party of travellers were not molested, and so in due
time they arrived saf