carriage, I put the question. "Certainly, as
good a ferry as there is in Germany."--"And can we cross with your
horses?"--"Ja--ja--we do it often." The affair was arranged in a minute.
The leaders were led back to the stable, and with two horses we drove
down to the water-side. A skiff was in readiness, and spreading a
sprit-sail, we were in the middle of the stream before there was time
for thought. In ten minutes we landed in the celebrated Rheingau, and at
the foot of a hill that was teeming with the vines of Rudesheim.
"Charlemagne observing, from the window of his palace at Ingelheim,"
says an old legend, "that the snow disappeared from the bluff above
Rudesheim earlier than from any of the neighbouring hills, caused the
same to be planted with vines." What has become of Charlemagne and his
descendants, no one knows; but here are the progeny of his vines to the
present hour.

Francois followed us in a few minutes with the carriage and horses, and
we were soon comfortably housed in an inn, in the village of Rudesheim.
Here, then, we were in the heart of the richest wine region in Europe,
perhaps in the world. I looked curiously at mine host, to see what
effect this fact might have had on him, but he did nor appear to have
abused the advantage. He told me there had just been a sale, at which I
should have been most welcome; complained that much sour liquor was
palmed off on the incredulous as being the pure beverage; and said that
others might prefer Johannisberger, but for his part, good
_hinter-hausen_[30] was good enough for him. "Would I try a bottle?" The
proposition was not to be declined, and with my dinner I did try a
bottle of his oldest and best; and henceforth I declare myself a convert
to _Rudesheimer hinter-hausen._ One cannot drink a gallon of it with
impunity, as is the case with some of the French wines; but I feel
persuaded it is the very article for our _market_, to use the vernacular
of a true Manhattanese. It has body to bear the voyage, without being
the fiery compound that we drink under the names of Madeira and Sherry.

[Footnote 30: _Behind the houses_; so termed, from the vines standing on
lower land than the hill, behind the village.]

It is a singular fact, that in none but wine growing countries are the
true uses of the precious gift understood. In them, wine is not a
luxury, but a necessary; its use is not often abused, and its beneficial
effect can scarcely be appreciated without bein