It was the elder girl's home town, and therefore she was greeted from nearly every house people called to her from windows and doors, and very often from the road. This hamlet was called Im Dörfli or The Little Village. The pair had been climbing for about an hour when they reached a hamlet half-way up the great mountain named the Alm. With her feet encased in heavy hob-nailed boots, this hot and shapeless little person toiled up the mountain. Her shape was difficult to distinguish, for she wore two dresses, if not three, and around her shoulders a large red cotton shawl. Small wonder though! for in spite of the heat, the little one, who was scarcely five years old, was bundled up as if she had to brave a bitter frost. The youngster's cheeks were in such a glow that it showed even through her sun-browned skin. One bright sunny morning in June, a tall, vigorous maiden of the mountain region climbed up the narrow path, leading a little girl by the hand. Where the footpath begins to go steeply and abruptly up the Alps, the heath, with its short grass and pungent herbage, at once sends out its soft perfume to meet the wayfarer. From it a footpath leads through green, well-wooded stretches to the foot of the heights which look down imposingly upon the valley. The little old town of Mayenfeld is charmingly situated.
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