CHAPTER XXIX [Looking West for Sunrise]

He kept his word.  We heard his horn and instantly got up.  It was dark and cold and wretched.  As I fumbled around for the matches, knocking things down with my quaking hands, I wished the sun would rise in the middle of the day, when it was warm and bright and cheerful, and one wasn’t sleepy.  We proceeded to dress by the gloom of a couple sickly candles, but we could hardly button anything, our hands shook so.  I thought of how many happy people there were in Europe, Asia, and America, and everywhere, who were sleeping peacefully in their beds, and did not have to get up and see the Rigi sunrise—­people who did not appreciate their advantage, as like as not, but would get up in the morning wanting more boons of Providence.  While thinking these thoughts I yawned, in a rather ample way, and my upper teeth got hitched on a nail over the door, and while I was mounting a chair to free myself, Harris drew the window-curtain, and said: 

“Oh, this is luck!  We shan’t have to go out at all —­yonder are the mountains, in full view.”

That was glad news, indeed.  It made us cheerful right away.  One could see the grand Alpine masses dimly outlined against the black firmament, and one or two faint stars blinking through rifts in the night.  Fully clothed, and wrapped in blankets, and huddled ourselves up, by the window, with lighted pipes, and fell into chat, while we waited in exceeding comfort to see how an Alpine sunrise was going to look by candlelight.  By and by a delicate, spiritual sort of effulgence spread itself by imperceptible degrees over the loftiest altitudes of the snowy wastes—­but there the effort seemed to stop.  I said, presently: 

“There is a hitch about this sunrise somewhere.  It doesn’t seem to go.  What do you reckon is the matter with it?”

“I don’t know.  It appears to hang fire somewhere.  I never saw a sunrise act like that before.  Can it be that the hotel is playing anything on us?”

“Of course not.  The hotel merely has a property interest in the sun, it has nothing to do with the management of it.  It is a precarious kind of property, too; a succession of total eclipses would probably ruin this tavern.  Now what can be the matter with this sunrise?”

Harris jumped up and said: 

“I’ve got it!  I know what’s the matter with it!  We’ve been looking at the place where the sun set last night!”

“It is perfectly true!  Why couldn’t you have thought of that sooner?  Now we’ve lost another one!  And all through your blundering.  It was exactly like you to light a pipe and sit down to wait for the sun to rise in the west.”

“It was exactly like me to find out the mistake, too.  You never would have found it out.  I find out all the mistakes.”

“You make them all, too, else your most valuable faculty would be wasted on you.  But don’t stop to quarrel, now—­maybe we are not too late yet.”