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532 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. [August 24, 1883. of criticising and admiring. Mr. Brownrigg, another well known British amateur, has, among others, his charm ing photograph of “ High Tor,” and adds also a goodly series of the successful pictures he obtained this spring in Italy; these latter appear in public for the first time, and are many of them admirable productions. Messrs. Chafiin and Sons show most of the pictures sent to Pall Mall last year, to wit : “ Cherry Ripe,” " My First Party,” &c.; while Mr. Adam Diston wisely chooses the medal picture “ Gloamin’," to represent his work. The British section has also reason to be proud of Prof. F. W. Donkin, who exhibits two of his grand pictures of the Chamonix district, the “Dent du Geant,” and “Aiguille du Dru." Mr. Alfred Hendrey’s little snow scenes are here also, while Mr. Gillard, of Gloucester, sends “Reading to Granny;” and Mr. H. Godbold, of St. Leonards, contributes some bright marine views. Mr. J. A. Kay has several of the photographs sent to Pall Mall last year, and of which we have already spoken ; while Mr. Albert Lewis, of Douglas, contributes likewise a magni ficent series of sea views which have gladdened our eyes be fore. Of “A Misty Morning on the Wear,” Mr. McLeish’s (of Darlington) admirable contribution, we certainly need say nothing; and about Mr. H. Manfield’s charming collection, which includes the “ Marble Hall,” and several fine cathedral interiors, we can add no further praise to that we have already awarded them on previous occa sions. Mr. John Moffat, of Edinburgh, exhibits excellent work, some of which also seemed familiar to us ; and we may say the same of the goodly collection of pictures for warded by Messrs. Norman and Co. Of the prints shown by the Platinotype Company we have already spoken, and we may add that the pictures were eagerly scanned by visitors at the opening of the Exhibition, who also paid particular attention to the fine examples of carbon printing exhibited by the Woodburytype Company. Mr. Renwick has some bright little studies both in platinotype and silver, and Mr. Henry Stevens exhibits the fine photo graphs of the flowers that secured him a medal at Pall Mall last year. The delightful studies of Mr. Frank Sutcliffe are seen to advantage on foreign soil, and so, too, are the artistic groups of Mr. T. G. Whaite, of Southport, which have deservedly earned for that gentleman several medals in Great Britain. Messrs. G. West and Co., of Gosport, are represented by some clever instantaneous pictures. Mr, W. England, we were glad to see, sends a series of his magnificent Swiss views, all, if we mistake not, old friends, and all—a significant matter—taken with emulsion of his own preparation. Last, but not least of the English ex hibitors, we note our friend Mr. F. York, of Notting Hill, who shows our Belgian friends how cleverly transparencies may be made, and how photography lends itself to amuse and instruct in the matter of lantern slides. • THE TOURIST PHOTOGRAPHER. In the Engadine. PLEASE don’t call it the “Ingaddin! ” is what we are often tempted to say, when visitors give the Cockney pronouncia- tion to the beautiful mountain valley which its inhabitants speak of as the “ Engardeen,” and which lies in the south eastern corner of Switzerland. It used to be the fashion a little while ago for the Times to discover the Engadine once a year. As sure as the holidays came round, and all the world and his wife talked of going out of town, there appeared in the columns of our leading journal a long article by some gentleman who fancied he was the first to visit this region. Even now, although the fashionable intelligence tells of daily arrivals and departures of the upper ten for the Engadine, we are assured from time to time that it is but quite lately the Engadine has become one of the playgrounds of Europe, and are told that ten years ago there was not an hotel in the place fit to dwell in. Our knowledge of the Engadine is not very extensive, it is true, but it dates back to 1858—a quarter of a century —and we remember well on that occasion of our first visit, we stayed at the Steinbock hotel, where a goodly company of English visitors were gathered together. There was one big family in particular, from Albion, making them selves very much at home—they were at tea, we recollect, when we entered from a mountain tramp—and it must have amused them considerably when a dozen years after wards they heard the Engadine spoken of in the Times as an unknown land. Since then we have twice visited the beautiful spot, the last time with the camera, and the little views we secured of Pontresina and St. Maritz, of the Roseg and Morteratsch glaciers, of the Bernina pass and Engadine lakes, &c., &c., call vividly to mind the pleasures of that charming region. There is no way into the Engadine but by climbing a lofty pass. There is the Bermina pass that travellers take coming from Italy, or the Maloja, a delight ful walk past the foot of the Monte Disgrazia ; while from the north there is also a choice of two passes, the Julier and the Albula, the latter upwards of 8,000 feet high. There are good roads, however, by all these routes, and in sum mer time good conveyances as well; that there are good hotels likewise goes without saying. In our last trip to the Engadine we had amusing proof, we well remember, of good management at an hotel. There was a capital head-waiter, or Oberkellner, and when this is the case, the hotel is usually a comfort able one. Not unfrequently in Switzerland and Germany the whole household is at the command of the head-waiter, master and mistress being nonentities beside him, and with very good reason ; for while the latter are frequently but good people of lowly origin, the head-waiter is a man of superior intelligence, a great traveller, and a practised linguist. We have met many thorough-going head-waiters in our time : at the big hotel at Gairloch in Scotland—he may be there now, for aught we know—a busy man managed the whole huge hotel with half a dozen understrappers, never disconcerted when the Skye boat brought two or three score more passengers than there were beds for. It was his boast, among other things, that he had crossed the Atlantic twenty-six times. At the Landsberg Hotel, at Frankfort, there used to be a head-waiter who placed every dish for sixty or eighty persons upon the table d'hote table himself, assistant waiters handing them over to him ; while many an Oberkellner in the big hotels permit no one to dress a salad but themselves Three or four languages are usually spoken by a good head-waiter, not feebly, but fluently, and he will put you right with your grammar without hesitation. “Avey-voos”—we once heard an Englishman ask— “ Avey-voos ce ving en bouteilles ploos petites ? ” “ Certainly, sir,” replied the brisk Oberkellner ; “ we keep it in pints and half-pints.” He had spent a twelve month at the “ Ship ” at Greenwich, this head-waiter told us in after conversation. “But why this talk about tables d’hote and head waiters ? ” our readers may ask. We will tell them. One day, entering the Grand Hotel Roseg, at Pontresina, in the Engadine, and beholding our friend the head-waiter superintending the setting out of the long tables for dinner, with the snowy napkins, glittering glass, and polished plate upon them, it occurred to us that a photo graph of the scene would be exceedingly interesting, if only to show hereafter—to those who still hold to it—that the Engadine is a newly-discovered land. Our friend gave his consent, and our little picture shows him standing half way up the room. The apartment was comparatively easy to photograph ; the table-cloths and napkins gave plenty of reflection, and the bow-windows at the end were not only covered with thick white curtains, but, better still, they did not look out into direct daylight; that is to say, to build the room, it had been necessary to cut a hollow