ed to sketch it, ceased to exhilarate me. My father was in no mood
for sight-seeing, either, but he went through it all conscientiously. My
mother, of course, enjoyed herself, but she met with an accident. While
sketching some figures of saints and monsters that adorned the arch of
the northern portal of the palace, she made an incautious movement and
sprained her ankle. The pain was excessive for the moment, but it soon
passed off, so as to enable her to limp back to our hotel. But the next
day the pain was worse; my father had a headache, a rare affliction with
him; I had caught a bad cold from swimming in the arrowy Rhone, and Una
and Miss Shepard were both in a state of exhaustion from sight-seeing;
and in this condition the journey to Geneva had to be made. We had
intended to remain there but a day, but we stayed longer, breathing the
pure air from the Alps, and feeling better as we breathed. I stood on
a bridge and looked down at that wonderful azure water rushing into the
lovely lake; I looked up and beheld those glorious mountains soaring
into the sky, and I forgot Rome and Florence, and almost America, in my
joy. Everything that life needs for life seemed present there.

We got into a little steamer and made the trip up the lake, the
mountains all about us. Up to this time I had imagined that the
acclivities in the north of England and in Scotland were mountains. We
sat on deck, in the stern of the steamer, my father gazing out and up
from beneath the rim of his soft felt hat, with his dark cloak over his
shoulders. He looked revived and vigorous again. Shortly before we left
Rome he had ceased to shave his upper lip, for what reason I know not;
I think it was simply indisposition to take that trouble any longer. My
mother had at first gently protested; she did not want his upper lip and
mouth to be hidden. But as the brown mustache, thick and soldier-like,
appeared, she became reconciled, and he wore it to the end of his life.
"Field-Marshal Hawthorne" James T. Fields used to call him after we got
home. Owing to the preponderance of expression of the upper part of his
head, the addition did not change his look as much as might have been
expected; we soon got used to it, and, inasmuch as all his photographs
were taken after the mustache was established, the world does not know
him otherwise.

The view became more and more enchanting as we penetrated farther into
the depths of the embrace of the mountains, and a