nough to give; so that, for a New York shilling, Rollo found
he could make more than sixty donations--which was certainly very cheap
charity.

"In fact," said Rollo, "it is so cheap that I would rather give them the
money than not."

At length the party arrived safely at Grindelwald and put up at an
excellent inn, with windows looking out upon the glaciers. The next day
they went to see the glaciers; and on the day following they returned to
Interlachen.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 10: Flowers dry faster and better between sheets of blotting
paper than between those of common printing paper, such as is used for
books; for the surface of this latter is covered with a sort of sizing
used in the manufacture of it, and which prevents the moisture of the
plant from entering into the paper.]

[Footnote 11: See map.]

[Footnote 12: It may seem strange that streams of ice, hundreds of feet
thick and solid to the bottom, can _flow_; but such is the fact, as will
appear more fully in the next chapter.]

[Footnote 13: See frontispiece.]

CHAPTER XI.

GLACIERS.

A glacier, when really understood, is one of the most astonishing and
impressive spectacles which the whole face of Nature exhibits. Mr.
George and Rollo explored quite a number of them in the course of their
travels in Switzerland; and Rollo would have liked to have explored a
great many more.

[Illustration: THE CREVASSE.]

A glacier is a river of ice,--really and truly a river of
ice,--sometimes two or three miles wide, and fifteen or twenty miles
long, with many branches coming into it. Its bed is a steep valley,
commencing far up among the mountains in a region of everlasting ice and
snow, and ending in some warm and pleasant valley far below, where the
warm sun beats upon the terminus of it and melts the ice away as fast as
it comes down. It flows very slowly, not usually more than an inch in an
hour. The warm summer sun beams upon the upper surface of it, melting it
slowly away, and forming vast fissures and clefts in it, down which you
can look to the bottom, if you only have courage to go near enough to
the slippery edge. If you do not dare to do this, you can get a large
stone and throw it in; and then, if you stand still and listen, you hear
it thumping and thundering against the sides of the crevasse until it
gets too deep to be any longer heard. You cannot hear it strike the
bottom; for it is sometimes seven or eight hundred feet through the