his topic was passing between the travellers on a
diligence (or coach) not long ago; as the five horses gaily trotted
along the Simplon road from Brigue to the Italian side, an English
schoolboy, who had been attentively listening, broke in.

'This grand road to be left to decay? The road Napoleon made! Why is it
to be given up? I never saw a better road in all my life!'

'There could certainly be no better road,' answered an elderly gentleman
who sat next to the lad, 'but now that the Simplon Tunnel is almost an
accomplished fact, this road will be no longer needed. People will not
sit for eight or ten hours on a diligence when they can do the journey
in less than an hour by rail.'

'I would choose the diligence all the same, tunnel or no tunnel!' said
the lad heartily. 'Just see how jolly it is to be trotting up-hill, with
a precipice on one side of you, a great slab of rock on the other, high
snow mountains in front, and hundreds of butterflies dancing about in
the sun. Isn't that better than being dragged through a dark tunnel,
boxed up in a stuffy train?'

'I agree with you there, at any rate in summer,' said his neighbour,
smiling; 'but for all that the tunnel is a grand thing for this country,
and it will benefit English folk too, for it will considerably shorten
the distance between the Straits of Dover and the Adriatic, and so our
Indian mails will go through the Simplon tunnel to Brindisi. The tunnel
is twelve miles long--the longest railway tunnel in the world.'

'I know the tunnel is very wonderful,' went on the lad, 'and I dare say
it is necessary, but why, because there happens to be a tunnel inside
the mountain, should this beautiful road be allowed to go to rack and
ruin? That beats me!' and the boy looked round as if to request an
explanation from some one.

A Swiss gentleman--speaking, however, most excellent
English--enlightened the lad.

'You only see the road in summer, when every yard of it has been
carefully inspected, and if necessary renewed. The winter storms and
avalanches do great damage here every year: bridges are swept away, and
the roads blocked with immense rocks brought down by the avalanches, so
that the cost of keeping this road in repair comes every year to over a
million of francs. When the tunnel is open, the Government will be able
to save this money, as the road will be no longer needed.'

'Poor old road,' said the lad. 'Then will no one ever come up it in
future?'

'O