ining portion, which, by a steeper declivity, inclined towards the
river.

Separate, indeed, I might well say, for the two portions are as unlike
as the records of all man's vanity and cruelty are unlike the emblem of
Gods goodness and wisdom. You scarcely cross this tiny stream when the
whole air resounds with the warbling of birds, bright in every tint and
hue of plumage, golden and green, purple and crimson.

From the lordly eagle of the Ortiler to the rich-toned linnet of the
Botzen valley, all are there. There, the paroquet of the Stelvio,
gorgeous as the scarlet bustard in plumage; and here, the golden jay
of the Vorarlberg. Blackbirds, thrushes, finches of a hundred different
races, "Roth kopfs," and woodpeckers, spring, chirp, flutter, and
scream, on every side. The very atmosphere is tremulous with the sounds,
lifelike and joyous as they are! The very bustle and movement around is
such a relief from the torpid stillness of the other end of the street,
where nothing is heard save the low monotonous tones of some old Jew
reading in his back-shop, or the harsh clank of an iron weapon removed
from its place; while, here, the merry twitter and the silvery-shake
recall the greenwood and the grove, the bright fields and heath-clad
mountains.

Here is the bird-market of Inspruck. It needs but one passing glance
to shew what attractions the spot possesses for the inhabitants. Every
rank, from the well-salaried official of the government to the humblest
burgher--from the richly clad noble in his mantle of Astracan, to the
peasant in his dark jacket of sheep's skin--the field officer and
the common soldier--the "Frau Grafin" voluminous in furs--the "Stuben
madchen" in her woollen jerkin--the lounging sexagenarian from his
coffee--the loitering school-boy returning from school--all jostle and
meet together here; while the scantiest intimacy with the language
will suffice to collect from the frequently uttered, "_Wie schoen!" "Ach
Gott!" "Wie wunderschon!_" that admiration and delight are expressed by
every tongue among them.

It is needless to say, that every corner of this little territory is
familiar to all Inspruckers; not only each shop and its owner, but each
separate treasure. The newly arrived bullfinch, or greywing, having the
notoriety that a Parisian circulates about the last _debutante_ of
the ballet or the opera. If not exactly one of those "lions," that
guide-books enforce among the duties of wandering sig