[Footnote 38:  The southern parts of Europe form an exception.]

A wind called the bise had been blowing for the last twenty-four hours, and when we left Vevey the gale was so strong, that the steam-boat had great difficulty in getting ahead.  This is a north wind, and it forces the water, at times, into the narrow pass at the head of the lake, in a way to cause a rise of some two or three feet.  We had taken a large empty bark in tow, but by the time we reached Nyon, where the lake widens suddenly, the boat pitched and struggled so hard, as to render it advisable to cast off the tow, after which we did much better.  The poor fellow, as he fell off broadside to the sea, which made a fair breach over him, and set a shred of sail, reminded me of a man who had been fancying himself in luck, by tugging at the heels of a prosperous friend, but who is unexpectedly cut adrift, when he is found troublesome.  I did not understand his philosophy, for, instead of hauling in for the nearest anchorage, he kept away before it, and ran down for Geneva, as straight as a bee that is humming towards its hive.

The lake gradually grew more tranquil as we proceeded north, and from Lausanne to Vevey we actually had smooth water.  I saw vessels becalmed, or with baffling winds, under this shore, while the bise was blowing stiff, a few leagues farther down the lake.  When I got home I was surprised to hear that the family had been boating the previous evening, and that there had scarcely been any wind during the day.  This difference was owing to the sheltered position of Vevey, of which the fact may serve to give you a better notion than a more laboured description.

The following morning was market-day, and I walked upon the promenade early, to witness the arrival of the boats.  There was not a breath of wind, even to leeward, for the bise had blown itself out of breath.  The bay of Naples, in a calm, scarcely presents a more picturesque view, than the head of the lake did, on this occasion.  I counted more than fifty boats in sight; all steering towards Vevey, stealing along the water, some crossing from Savoy, in converging lines, some coming down, and others up the sheet, from different points on the Swiss side.  The great square was soon crowded, and I walked among the peasants to observe their costumes and listen to their language.  Neither, however, was remarkable, all speaking French, and, at need, all I believe using a patois, which does not vary essentially from that of Vaud.  There was a good deal of fruit, some of which was pretty good, though it did not appear in the abundance we had been taught to expect.  The grapes were coming in, and they promised to be fine.  Though it is still early for them, we have them served at breakfast, regularly, for they are said to be particularly healthful when eaten with the morning dew on them.  We try to believe ourselves the better for a regimen that is too agreeable to be lightly dropped.  Among other things in the market, I observed the inner husks of Indian corn, that had been dried in a kiln or oven, rubbed, and which were now offered for sale as the stuffing of beds.  It struck me that this was a great improvement on straw.