ever been the
most potent in the long run. What they need is faith, concert and
consistency.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

EDELWEISS.

Everybody has heard of it, and those who have been in Switzerland have
seen in the shop-windows, if nowhere else, or in the hat of the man who
leads their horse over the Wengern Alp, the little irregular,
star-shaped flower with thick petals that look as if they were cut out
of white flannel. People may not be certain how its name is
pronounced--may call it _eedelwise_, or even _idlewise_--but as to its
habits every one is fully persuaded in his own mind; that is to say, if
one person believes that it grows on rocks, another is equally sure that
it blooms under the snow, while in either case there is apt to be an
impression that it is found only in regions where the foot of the
ordinary tourist may not venture. The writer has found it, however, in
various places perfectly accessible to good walkers or where a horse
could carry those not in that category. Edelweiss certainly likes to
grow among rocks, on the brink of a precipice or down the face of it,
and out of reach if possible; but it will also nestle in the grass at
some distance from the brink, and may be found even where there is no
precipice at all.

The village of Zweisimmen is a quiet summer resort in the Upper
Simmenthal, in the canton of Berne. The valley is green and peaceful,
with chalets dotted over all the mountain-sides: the rocks of the
Spielgarten tower on the one hand, the snow of the Wildstrubel closes
the view to the south, where the Rawyl Pass leads to Sion in the valley
of the Rhone, and, looking northward, the mountains grow more and more
blue and distant in the direction of Thun. From Zweisimmen, on four
excursions, the writer and others have had the pleasure of picking
edelweiss. First, at the Fromattgrat. Horses and saddles are forthcoming
when required, and the four legs go as far as the scattered chalets of
Fromatt, the wide mountain-pasture which is reached after a steady
ascent of two hours and a half. Across from the chalets rises the _grat_
or ridge where we have to seek our edelweiss. As we mount higher the
gray masses of the Spielgarten seem very near: a fresh vivifying wind,
the breath of the Alps, makes one forget how warm it was toiling up the
gorge. The clouds are drawing around in white veils and sweeping down
into the valley, quite concealing our destination at times, hiding even
the member