The Coolidge examiner., 1937-07-01

- RUYERES donS 1eStlVe at
4 tire on August first. 1t is
Y the Swiss Fourth OF July,
and colorful ceremonies are
the order of the day.
At dusk bells begin pealing JOY
ously as you climb the steep path
to the town.
AS you listen to the melodious
tones you consider how much these
bells mean in the lives OF the peo-
pie. They toll for funerals and ma
tional tragedies, clang out the time,
summon to church, proudly ring out
the glad tidings Of victory, political
or military. and sing hymns and
old airs at the whim Of the caril-
lonneur. Each call has distinctive
tone. Bells have spoken thus for
centuries.
But this excited paean means on
ly that some great event is about
to take place. 1t inspires in you
as you hurry along with the stream
OF laughing, singing country folk
that same expectant thrill that you
felt as a boy when you chased the
whining calliope Of the circus
parade.
You crowd through the narrow
arch Of the ancient tower, a frown-
ing pile, gray and forbidding, which
once barred the way to the in
vader. Now it serves the peaceful
purpose of framing the old gate and
supporting the arms OF Gruyeres-
a silver crane on gules shield,
surmounted by a crown and held by
two semi-naked savages, clubs in
hand.
What scene bursts upon you as
you pass out Of the entranceway
and walk into the towns cobbled
court! Throngs of people. dressed
in gorgeous Gruyerien costumes.
are gathered in a medieval setting.
All seem exalted. as are you. by
the constant dingdong Of the scores
OF bells, some loud and clear, others
fainter and farther away, perhaps
miles down the valley.
The scene is like an animated
amphitheater. in which the central
floor forms the arena, and the high
gabled houses. with lace capped
heads craning from each Gothic
window, make the tiers.
Flowers and Flags.
The backdrop is veritable rain
bow of color. Every sill faunts box
Of brilliant geraniums and nastur-
tiums, making kaleidoscope Of the
pastel houses. White-crossed. blood
red flags of Switzerland stretch be-
tween the houses and flutter from
poles. Above most doors waves the
scarlet flag of Gruyeres with a
white crane strutting across its
center. Nature, not to be outdone
by the efforts Of man, tints the
billowing clouds with the rosy glow
Of an Alpine sunset.
Gradually, you work your way
UP the arena, past the central foun-
tain with its washtubs and wooden
boards worn smooth with much
scrubbing. to the courts upper end.
Like a stage before curtain raising,
it is the focal point Of all eyes.
The peal of the bells ceases. the
echoes die away in the mountains.
From afar the faint notes Of an ap-
preaching band come through the
hush. The music is that stirring
song, lie RAM des Vaches."
Tradition says King Louis XIV for
bade his bands to play it, for the
lifting tune made his Swiss mer-
cenaries so homesick that they
would weep and desert the colors
when they heard it. Even today.
when a Swiss is far from home,
the refrain brings tears to his eyes.
It produces that same tingling
along the spine that a United States
Naval academy man feels when
Anchors Aweigh" is played.
Soon you see emerging from be-
meath the arch a file Of tots. gay in
Gruyerien costumes. At once a
chatter begins in the audience, as
mothers and fathers recognize their
offspring. A vivacious little bride
and handsome young bridegroom
lead the parade. So small and neat
do they seem that they might have
been animated dolls padding along
"a Swiss edition of the Chauve
Souris.
Each doll looks searchingly at
the spectators. Every now and then
one breaks into blushing smile
and shyly turns away; perhaps a
parent had been glimpsed in the
throng.
The happy children pass on. the
eldest and tallest bringing up the
rear. Arranged in steps, they re-
semble bright-hued escalator NOV
ing down the path.
The men of the village and nearby
dairy farms, young blades and gray
bearded sires, follow the children,
solemn and in step, mindful, per-
haps of their many months of mill
tary service. they wear traditional