Wimmis, the 8th.

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A pretty affair! the weather is three times as bad as ever. I must give up my plan of going to Interlaken to-day, as there is no possibility of getting on. For the last few hours the water has been pouring straight down, as if the clouds above had been fairly squeezed out; the roads are as soft as feather-beds; only occasional shreds of the mountains are to be seen, and even these but rarely. I almost thought sometimes that I was in the Margravate of Brandenburg, and the Simmen valley looked perfectly flat. I was obliged to button my waistcoat tight over my sketch-book, for very soon my umbrella was of no use whatever, and so I arrived here to dinner about one o'clock. I had my breakfast in the following place.   

Letters of Felix MendelssohnWhere stories live. Discover now