In reading up on Lucerne, I came upon this, taken from “Romance and Teutonic Switzerland.”

“The Swiss nation was born on the banks of Lake Luzern, and craddled upon its waters.  First, the chattering waves told the news to the overhanging beaches; and they whispered it to the forests, to the lonely cedars on the uplands.  The blank precipices smiled, the Alpine roses blushed their brightest, the summer pastures glowed, the glaciers and avalanches roared approval; and, finally, the topmost peaks promised to lend their white mantles for the baptism.”  That’s rather nicely put, don’t you think?

About half way along Axenstrasse, we discovered that we were hungry, so we proposed to try one of the farm houses for something to eat.  Our guide, tried one that looked typical of what we wanted, and the rest of us waited by the road, for fully thirty minutes.

At last the elder returned, explaining that he had had no easy task.  He had to plead with every member of the household, from grandmother to daughter, to get them to take us in; but at last he was successful.  We went into a most interesting room.  The finish and furnishings were old and quaint, the woodwork bare of paint and scoured clean and smooth by years of scrubbing.  In time we were served with bread (they were out of butter, they said) preserved cherries, walnuts, and hot milk. (Our guide said it was safer to have the milk boiled.) We enjoyed the meal amid the unique surroundings.  The good people were profuse with thanks when we paid them in good-sized silver.  I believe the elder left a gospel tract with them, so who can tell what will be the outcome of our visit?

From Fluelen we took steamer back to Lucerne.

Well, it’s getting late.  I’d better go to bed.  I fear I shall tire you by my guide-book descriptions.  But this for a good-night’s thought:  Here I am away from you, away from my world, as it were.  I can look back on my short life, and I can see the hand of an allwise and merciful Father, shaping events, ever for my good.  Was it chance that we two should have taken the same steamer and be thrown together as we were.  Not at all.  There is a power behind the universe—­call it what we may—­which directs.  This power will not permit any honest, truth-seeking soul to be overcome and be destroyed.  I thank the Lord for His blessings to me.  Out of seeming darkness and despair He has led me to light and happiness.  And may I say it, we two, because of our cleaving to the light as it has been made known to us, have been brought together.  Is it not true?  I wish and pray also that your father may soften his heart towards the truth.  I sometimes fear that his heart does already accept the gospel, but that his will says no.  There now, good night.

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Good morning.  I had a fine sleep.  I dreamed that you were with me, and we were looking at the Lion of Lucerne.  The dying lion roared, and you clasped me so tightly in your fright, that I awoke,—­all of which reminds me that I have not told you much about this city or its sights.