The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. She laughed. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. .
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