Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1872-02-01

| boats on LagO Magglore, and were rorVed
across by boatman who rested on his
oars and sang Jjodelsong when we were
half way across.
Being landed on the opposite bank,
we found our road at once begin to
trend upward; and here, as the guide
informed us, the ascent of the Hohen-
horn might be said to begin.
"This, however, meme Herren," said
he, dis only part of the old pass. 1t is
ill-kept; for none but country folks and
travellers from Oberbrunn come this way
now But we shall strike the new pass
higher up. A grand road, meme Her
ren-as fine road as the Simplon, and
good for carriages all the way. 1t has
only been open since the spring"
"The old pass is good enough for me,
anyhow ~ said Egerton, crowding g
handful of wild forgetne-nots under
the ribbon of his hat. ats like stray
fragment of Arcadia"
And in truth twas wonderfully lovely
and secluded-a mere rugged path wind
ing steeply upward in soft green shade
among large forest trees and moss grown
rocks covered with velvety lichen. By
and-by, when we had been following
this path for nearly an hour, we came
upon patch of clearing, in the midst
of which stood rough upright mono
18th, antique, weather-stained, covered
with rude carvings like Runic monu-
ment the primitive boundary-stone
between the Cantons of Uri and Inter
walden.
"Let us rest here!' cries Egerton,
fiinging himself at full length on the
grass. "Ehue .tq9aces land the hours
are shorter than the years. Why not
enjoy them?n
But the guide, whose name is Peter
Kaufman, interposes after the manner
| of guides in general, and will by no
means let US have our own way. There
is mountain inn, he urges, now only
| FIVE minutes distant" an excellent
little inn, where they sell GOOD red
wine." So we yield to the fate and
Peter Kaufman, and pursue our up
ward way, coming presently, as he
promised and predicted, upon bright
open space and a brown chalet on
shelf of plateau overhanging a giddy
precipice. Here sitting under vine
| covered trellis built out on the very
brink of the cliff, we find three noun
| red wine aforesaid.
In this picturesque eyrie we made
our midday halt. A smiling madchen
brought us coffee, brown bread and
goats'-milk cheese; while our guide
pulling out huge lump of the dryest
Sch0artze brod from his wallet, fraternized
with the mountaineers over half flask
of his favorite vintage.
"There must surely be moments"
said Egerton Wolfe. after a while,
when even such men as you, Frank
men of the world, and lovers of it
feel without them some STRINGS of the
primitive Adam; some vague longing
Tor that idyllic life of the woods and
fields that we dreamers are still, in our
Utmost souls, insane enough to sigh after
as the highest good"
You mean, don't l sometimes wish
to be- Swiss peasant-farmer, with ssbots;
a goitre; a wife without form as regards
her person, and void as regards her head;
and cretin grandfather hundred and
three years old? Why, no. 1 prefer
myself as l am
Ny friend smiled and shook his head.
"Why take it for granted" said he,
and his paternal acres at the same
time? Horace, with none of the adj
juncts you name, loved a country life,
and turned it to immortal poetry"
The world has gone round once or
twice since then. my dear fellow l re-
piled, philosophically. "The best poetry
comes out of cities nowadays"
"And the worst. Do you see those
avalanches over yonder?n
Following the direction of his eyes,
saw something like tiny piff of white
smoke glide over the shoulder of huge
mountain on the opposite side of the
valley. 1t was follow ed by another and
another. We could neither see whence
they came nor whittier they went. We
were too far away to hear the sullen
thunder of their fall. Silently they
flashed into sight, and as silently they
vanished.
Wolfe sighed heavily.
Poor Lawrence ~ said he. "Switzer-
land was his dream. He longed for the
Alps as ardently as ardently as other
men long for money or power"
Lawrence was younger brother Of
| his, whom l had never seen-a lad of
great promise, whose uealIn naQ broken
| down at Adiscombe some ten or twelve
years before, and who had soon after
died of rapid consumption at Torquay.
Sand he never had that longing graft
| fed, had he ?'
"Ah, no-he was never out of Eng
land. They prescribe bracing climates
now, am told, for lung disease; but
not SO then. Poor, dear fellow some
times fancy he might have lived if he
had had his hearts DESIRE"
I" / would not let such a painful
thought enter my head, if were you,'
said |, hastily.
"But can't help It'll My mind hes
been running on poor Lawrence all the
morning; and, somehow, the grander
the scenery gets, the more / think how
he would have exulted in it. Do you
remember those lines by Coleridge,
written in the Valley of Chamouni? He
knew them by heart. Twas the sight
of yonder avalanches that reminded
me. Well! will try not to think of
these things. Let us change the sub
ject."
Just at this moment the landlord of
| the chalet came Cut-a briphtey