The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1880-04-16
THE LITTLE WHITE DOOR.


f. ". BOurdllOn, in Spectator.
THE LITTLE WHITE DOOR.
SUPPOSE that most boys and girl
who go to school and study geograph,
know, by sight at least, the little patel
OF pale pink which is marked on tn,
maPas Switzerland" Isuppose, too
that if I asked "What can YOU tell mt
about Switzerland?' a great many O.
them would cry out, cit is MOUNTAIN
Gus country. The Alps are there, Nom
Blanc is there, the highest land in Eu
rope" All this is true, but I wonder
if all of those who know ever SO muct
have any idea what beautiful country
Switzerland is? Not only are the noun.
tains very high and very grand, but the
valleys which lie between are as green
as emerald, and full of all sorts of wild
flowers, there are lakes of the loveliest
blue, rivers which foam and dash as
merrily as rivers do in America, and the
prettiest farmhouses in the world,
cbalets the Swiss call them, with steep
roofs and hanging balconies. and mot
toes and quaint ornaments carved all
over their fronts. And the most pecu-
liar and marvellous thing of all is the
strange nearness of the grass and herb
age to the SHOWS. High, high up in the
foldings of the great mountains, on
whose tops winter sits all the year long,
are lovely little valleys hidden away,
where goats and sheep feed by the side
of glacier-fed streams, and the air is full
OF the tinkle of their bells, and of the
sweet smells Of the mountain flowers.
The water of these streams has an odd
color which no other waters have, a sort
of milky blue-green, like an opal. Even
on the hottest days q chilly air plays
over their surface, the breath, as it
were, of the great ice-felds above, from
fed. And still the higher you climb,
the greener grow the pastures and the
thicker the blossoms, while the milk in
the chalet pans seems half cream, it is
SO rich. Delicious milk it is, ice cold,
and fragrant as if the animals which
produce it had fed on flowers. i. Oh.
Switzerland is wonderful land indeed!
One day as I sat in thicket of Alp
roses in one of those lovely, lonely up
per valleys. l happened to raise my eyes
and noticed, high in the cliff above, a
tall, narrow rock as white as snow,
which looked exactly like door set in
the face of the gray precipice. An old
shepherd came by, and L asked him
about it. He said it was called The
Door," and that the valley was called
1.-The Valley of the Door, by some
folks because of it, but that its real
name was die PRUDENTIAL, or " Fritz
Valley" on account of boy called
Fritz who once lived. wanted to know
about the boy, and as the old man had
little time to spare, he sat down be-
side me and told this story, which I will
now tell you.
1t was many. many years ago (the
shepherd said), so many that no man
now remembers exactly when it hap
pened. Fritz's mother was a widow,
and he was her only child. They were
poor people, and had to work hard for
a living. Fritz was steady, faithful
lad, and did his best. All day long he
dug and toiled, herded his goats,
MIXED, fed; in the winter he carved
wooden bowls for sale in the lower val
ley, but work as he would, it was not
always easy to keep the meal-bin full.
What made it harder, were the strange
storms which every few months swept
the valley and damaged the crops. Out
of the blue sky, as it were. these storms
would sudden n drop. The sun would
be shining one moment, the next, great
torrents Of rain would begin to fall and
fierce winds to blow, flooding the crops
and carrying drifts of sand and gravel
across the fields; or again, at other
times, no rain would fail for months to-
gether, and every green thing would be
burned and dried up. while perhaps
a: the very same time the lower valleys
had plenty of rain. This happened so
often that people gave the Thai the
name of The Unlucky Valley and it
was accounted sad thing to have to
get your living there. The climate is
very different now-praised be God.
ssYou can see, madame, that Fritz's
lot was not strewn with roses. Still he
was q brave lad. and did not lose heart.
He had no playfellows. but sometimes
in the long summer days when he sat to
watch the herd, he would tell himself
story by way of amusement, and almost
always these stories were about the
White Door up there, which was as
much Q marvel then as now. At last,
by dint of looking and dreaming, it
grew to be so like real door to him,