innocence, the quick color coming and going as they greeted the pastor
and his friends, and received his blessing in return. Gretchen and her
husband were with us, and Gretchen number two was my especial escort,
leading me through the rooms, and introducing me in her naive manner,
"Mamma's friend, and papa's, and uncle Euler's."

Christmas festivities were kept up during the week; and before that
elapsed, I was won to add a month, and then another, it being quite
impossible to slip away from the kind friends with whom I had so much
in common; the fascination only the more potent as we listened to the
beating winds, and looked out into the slippery paths leading down
into the cantons beneath.

Spring had come when it was "fit to travel," as Gretchen said. The
green of the landscape was brilliant and uniform; the turf sown with
primrose, violet, anemone, veronica, and buttercups. It was time for
me to leave; neither could I be persuaded to stay till the meeting of
the Landsgemeinde. It was sad to leave them, and the little Gretchen
was only pacified by my assurance that, if possible, I would return at
no distant day. My friend Spruner had business at Herisau, and
spending one more evening together, our prayers mingling for the last
time, we parted.

Our way led through the valley of the Sitter, a stream fed by the
Sentis Alps, and spanned by a bridge hundreds of feet above the water.
The same smooth carpet of velvet green was spread everywhere.

"There is no greener land," said Spruner; "the grass is so rich that
the inhabitants cannot even spare enough for vegetable gardens. Our
tables are supplied from the lower vallies."