Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-12-08
Laughter
 Amid Tears By MARGARET J. GATES

HE car was almost due at the suTl-
 init of the Gornergrat. The chill air from the glacier fields pressed stimulating finger on the pulses. The ice of the surrounding glaciers was dull green and deep.
 The Little Traveller, wound to the neck in thick plaid shawl, stood wait ing with her aunt. They were going down on the last car which made the trip that day. They had wished to spend the night on the top, for Elizabeth, the captain of this brief summer outing, had but to give. the orders and Die Tante obeyed like a soldier.
 But, alas, the money was lacking. They had added once and again the col- umna in their account book, and the result came ever the same, with the ttreaome infexibiIity of mathematics. The two hungry sightseers were at last enjoying Switzerland after months of longing. But their rule must be kept -so many marks day, and prices at the tip-top houses have all the rarity of the altitude where they flourish. So this pleasure must be given up.
 For once I am almost satisfied, sighed Elizabeth. Tt, would be too glorious to see sunrise here, too. We must be content with our half-loaf."
 The electric car came slowly creeping up the steel way, bringing noise, dis turbing element, taste of modern im- provement, into these silent heights.
 Elizabeth's green touring hat bore pun of feathers on quivering. wire. Each time they trembled, If you cared for Elizabeth you must look to see if she, too, trembled. "One look, dear aunt, one long look to fix this picture in my mind. How dull the four walls and the sewing will be after this feast ot ice and snow. Just see how clear the air is, and how near the other peaks look. 1 am going to that rock to look at the Matterhorn. There is time to spare. The car is not up yet, and it waits before going down again. Come"
 The rose color of the afterglow on snowy summits defies1< the common sense. Even the solid fields of white, sloping down the channels between soaring peaks, these have a chilled sorcery of their own. Imprint the scene on your mind, Elizabeth. It will always 0IeSJs 4G ASS as yOu SeyS 6O uduuLlUS1y beautiful and remote.
 The dependence, the influences of daily life is the chain by which the spir- itual delights must be confined. And no joy is sufficient to itself, even observa- tion of the Gornergrat panorama The little Swiss watch, delicate toy, the price of which had shortened the pleas. ure trip two weeks, the watch pinned on Elizabeth's breast, continued tick ing and ticking, leading time captive, and leading Elizabeth and her aunt from the rock with its mighty outlook back co the little station. The car stood ready for the descent, with perhaps a 30 sec- onds to spare.
 The morning of the same day George Werner, young student, had arrived at zermatt. His face was long by na- ture, and now it was long from fatigue --and what else? Perhaps it was fatigue alone. He was always jolly in con- versation, therefore he must be always happy. A smile came quickly to his face when he met friend, When lett alone 1t died quickly away But always his interest in others was there
 Young blood must flow a little faster at seeing the noble view which is the hearts desire, George had dreamed of this hour, and now as he sat on the ascending car, here was reality. His reddish hair blew back from his tenn pies, white from the confinement or study.
 The summer was almost past, but near the summit there were no plants to mark the change of season by their brighter coloring. The stony bed of the new steel way was hardly adjusted, and barrenness ruled under foot
 But raise your eyes, George There stand the monarchs of Switzerland. The eyes must be kept always open. He knows this, for when the lids shut quiet ly he sees many far-away things. Though the scenes shift in each one is figure buoyant with life and some times wearing plaid shawl and an AL pine hat which shades the blue eyes be- heath In fact, the familiar eyes are so shaded that when George looks into them the vision always fades; he opens his own eyes and sighs himself back into the present moment.
 Life would be quite another thing if he might allow himself these visions. But they come without leave, and must be put aside. The question which had often risen to his lips was not the one he might ask.