The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1886-03-24

trinkets of wood carving gems of their own
mountains and bundles of linen and silk
lace, such as no shopkeeper hesitates to rec
ommend as durable to the ladies Of America.
Their nimble fingers keep the bobbins twist
ing the threads and flying in and out of the
meshes upon the cushions in their laps. We
pay the great price of one and six or two
shillings per yard for such trimming IN Bos-
ton, and never consider how few yards
Swiss peasant will weave in winters even
ing, and how many profits are taken out OF
the price, leaving a mere pittance for the
maker. Every yard probably passes through
three or four hands, besides the custom
house. before it reaches our retail stores
We little dream as we use many OF the COM
monest necessities of our wardrobe and daily
fare, of the far-off scenes and people who
have aided in gratifying our taste and secur-
ing to us our CHEEKY homes. We observed
with interest other new aspects of domestic
life in the fields, where we saw the mothers
LAYING their sleeping babes in the shade of
some bush that they could be free to bundle
up the flax or dig potatoes. The fathers
were walling up their garden plats to keep
the winters frost and snow from washing
the soil into the rivers. The little chaps and
their sisters even hada serious, eare-worn
expression of countenance, as if they, too,
felt the responsibility of bread winners.
Many as young as seven had paniers fitted to
their backs, to carry home their share of the
in-gathering. This perpetual carrying of
burdens which the Lord designed for the
brute creation has dwarfed the race. As
one sees them Juggling along the roads bowed
double with heavy packs, or YEARLY drag
ging themselves home at sunset, one feels
they can take little solid comfort, for they
know to-morrow's sun must warn them
again to begin the eeaseless struggle, if they
would keep the wolf from the door in the
cold dark winter. We cannot picture this
Woodworking peasantry as gleefully sing
ing the Harvest Home. The memorable
taskmaster necessity and the habits Of gener-
atoms have apparently eliminated from their
very souls all thought of enjoyment in life.
Lauterbrunnen is truly land of water
falls, which surpass in number and beauty
anything we have ever seen. One, gaining
an impetus on the brow of the mountain,
rushes to the edge of cliff so straight and
high that the stream leaps forward and falls
with such force as to resolve the body of
water into invisible spray when it strikes
the ground. To see another, one must enter
deep cavern, worn out of the solid granite
in the very heart of mountain. In one
side of this dome the springs of the summit
above have centered and scooped out water
course, where torrent of water as large as
barrel spouts into the centre of the cave as
If gushing from deep horn The road be-
yond Lauterbrunnen takes the traveller to
the base of Jungfrau, upon whose top few
human feet have trodden, as the task is even
more arduous than the ascent of Mont Blanc.
To US this mountain, standing aloof from the
others in the vicinity, forms one of the last
ing impressions of our Swiss travels, and the
illimitable grandeur of its mountains.
M. C. P.B,