We crossed to Giessbach. The description of this
beautiful cascade (a poem of many stanzas), another
can give you better than I can. The steamer across
the Brienz lake was crowded with passengers, and I
could not find a seat, until a peasant, squeezing himself
into as little compass as possible, made friendly signs
to me to take a seat beside him. On the bench just
opposite to him sat his wife. They were peasants from
the Canton Wallis, poorly clad, and not over-clean in
the outward; but they had something indescribably
gentle and good-tempered in their expression, voice,
and demeanor. They told me that they had just re-
returned from a pilgrimage to Einsiedeln, which they
undertook in consequence of a vow which they made
some years ago, when their only son broke his
leg. He had recovered, and the good parents had
made their thanksgiving pilgrimage. They were now
returning on foot to their home in Wallis. They had
crossed over St. Gothard.
Whilst I was talking with the good, communicative people of Wallis, four young peasant girls, in the holiday costume of Berne, were singing various of their country's “Ranz de Vaches,” such as " “Les Amallis de Collombette” etc. They had fresh and pure voices, and their joddling rang like glass bells. After they had sung, the prettiest of the four went round with a plate, but looked all the while so shy and so sweetly-earnest, that one could not do other than thank her and her companions.
Again I visited Lauterbrunnen valley, again I saw the gigantic fall of Schmadribach, which nearly frightened me the first time I saw it, at a considerable
