The times., 1889-09-27
CHrAsso, SWITZERLAND, Sept. Sth, 'S9.
Enron OF THE TIMEs:-

Switzerland, but after looking at the WORD L
believe I've made mistake and 1t should
be Chiasso, Italy, 1t may be one or the
other-or both for aught know, for it is on
the border and the custom house is here.
1t is pronounced Key-os-so. Musical isn't
it? All Italian names are, they end in the
prolonged vowel sounds: Sugano, Bellin-
sical at first to hear the deck hands on a
lake steamer shout out these names with a
string of equally flowing words attached in
forming passengers that they are to get off
or on, or out of the way, but after day of it
the music of it pals on the sense and one
longs for good Saxon word with a crash in
it, even the inharmonious ding of Yam
kee boat captain would be delightful for a
change. But to return to Chiasso, why am
here i'm this little unheard of place. l can
tell it in fraction of the time it has taken
to weave the web of circumstances that
brought me here. / was at Interlaken last
Tuesday. had too much luggage to carry
over the mountains so gave the hotel por-
ter franc and requested him to forward my
valise to Como. He promised in considera-
tion of the franc (they promise anything for
that magnificent sum- and / went on my
journey happy and lightly laden. In due
course of time travelled through the rest of
Switzerland to Lucerne, through the St.
Gothard pass, OH the wonderful st. Gothard
railroad, through the charming Italian lakes
of Maggioro, Lugano and Como and arrived
at Como ohappy-contented, and full of the
delights of this most delightful country.
went to my hotel at peace with myself and
the world, inquired for my luggage-not
there-asked for letter concerning it-none,
went to the custom house-couldn't talk
who could talk just little bit, to go with
me. He banged away at the stupid official
and at last found out it was not there.
Then | went to the railroad station and en-
quired. The man looked blank and shook
his head. The other men in the Office
laughed, then they put up job on me, call
ing in one after another all the employees,
and when tackled the chap in English he
would shrug his shoulders and turn away
sputtering Italian, and then the house would
encore again. They kept that up till it grew
monotonous and ceased to be funny, to me
at least, and i went away with dark desire
to do murder in my heart. Went back to
the hotel, got the porter again and managed
to guess that they thought my luggage was
at the custom house at Chiasso so to Chi
asso / went and here, thank fortune found
a German-that is, l found an educated
man and a gentleman. He spoke English,
German, Italian and French. He took my
case in hand. We went to the postoffice-
not there, to the telegraph office-not there,
to the baggage office-not there, to the
| freight officc-not there, to the custom
] office-not there. In fact it was nowhere.
Then we telegraphed to Interlaken and in
| two hours and at cost of 25 cents found il
had been sent on on Wednesday. Then
| back to the custom house and found it had
not been passed. Then my newly made
friend, Hans Schwingruiber, agreed to look
the matter up for me and write to head
quarters and l went back to Como for the
night. OF course could go on to Rome
but have one shirt, one pair socks, three
handkerchefs and three collars, and Italy,
especially Rome, is hot, and l wanted my
complete wardrobe, so inquired farther in
Como and armed with letter came back to
Chiasso this a. m. and have put the tele-
graph at work again and here l am waiting
for developments. If had the sardine be-
fore me who is responsible for all my trials
I'd talk forcible if not elegant English to
him for few minntes and have the salts
faction of little relief myself even if he
coudent understand the drift of my conver-
sation, twouldn't be prayerbook English
either. But after all Chiasso is lovely even
to much abused and angry man. am
waiting in the telegraph Office, a great noun
tain looks calmly and benignly down up
on me through an open window. His sides
are covered with pomegranite, fig and olive
trees with patches of grape vines inter-
sperced, q great cloud white and beautiful
in the sunlight hovers just over his head, a
royal crown for monarch of the hills.
The wind, soft, fragrant and balmy as a
breath from Paradise blows over me and
soothes my troubled spirit. Chiasso nestles
here i'm the valley at the foot of these great
hills, tits queer city to an American, such
narrow streets and little shops. The houses
are all built in q row, all plastered and
whitewashed, have red tiled roofs and tile
covered chimneys, they all look old too-old
enough TO have been inhabited by some
prehistoric race. i walked down the mar
row street, curious and enciting much inter-
est and many comments, tisn't pleasant to
be quite so conspicuous, but one gets hard
ened to it. At the end of the street saw
sign making some statement about the
Grotto de Carolina, well! what luck think l,
here is grotto thrown in my way in my
extremity TO help pass the time away, so /
took the path. 1t went down a narrow