te in his mind; so I said, "Five persons want
breakfast at five o'clock. Five persons, five hours. Call all of them
at half-past four." And I repeated it, and made him repeat it in English
and French. He then insisted on putting me into the room of one of the
American gentlemen and then he knocked at the door of a lady, who cried
out in indignation at being disturbed; and, finally, I found my room.
At the door I reiterated the instructions for the morning; and he
cheerfully bade me good-night. But he almost immediately came back, and
poked in his head with,--

"Is you go by de diligence?"

"Yes, you stupid."

In the morning one of our party was called at halfpast three, and saved
the rest of us from a like fate; and we were not aroused at all, but
woke early enough to get down and find the diligence nearly ready, and
no breakfast, but "the man who spoke English" as lively as ever. And we
had a breakfast brought out, so filthy in all respects that nobody could
eat it. Fortunately, there was not time to seriously try; but we paid
for it, and departed. The two American gentlemen sat in front of the
house, waiting. The lively waiter had called them at half-past three,
for the railway train, instead of the diligence; and they had their
wretched breakfast early. They will remember the funny adventure with
"the man who speaks English," and, no doubt, unite with us in
warmly commending the Hotel Lion d'Or at Sion as the nastiest inn in
Switzerland.

A WALK TO THE GORNER GRAT

When one leaves the dusty Rhone Valley, and turns southward from Visp,
he plunges into the wildest and most savage part of Switzerland, and
penetrates the heart of the Alps. The valley is scarcely more than a
narrow gorge, with high precipices on either side, through which the
turbid and rapid Visp tears along at a furious rate, boiling and leaping
in foam over its rocky bed, and nearly as large as the Rhone at the
junction. From Visp to St. Nicolaus, twelve miles, there is only a
mule-path, but a very good one, winding along on the slope, sometimes
high up, and again descending to cross the stream, at first by vineyards
and high stone walls, and then on the edges of precipices, but always
romantic and wild. It is noon when we set out from Visp, in true pilgrim
fashion, and the sun is at first hot; but as we slowly rise up the easy
ascent, we get a breeze, and forget the heat in the varied charms of the
walk.

Everything for the use of the up