The crystal streams, silvery lakes, and smiling valleys, have reflected their beauty in many a maiden’s face. True, these daughters of the forest wear no high-heeled boots nor Paris bonnets, but they are beautiful, nevertheless. I think Johnson will not soon forget a girl whom we met in a Swiss chalet where we stayed a few nights ago. And who can blame him? She was eighteen years of age, of medium height, and had a faultless figure. She had a Grecian face, smooth features, fair complexion, large brown eyes, and flowing auburn hair. A radiant smile wreathed her innocent face. She looked at Johnson. He looked at her. Neither one spoke. Neither one could speak so the other could understand. But what is the use of words “When each warm wish springs mutual from the heart, And thought meets thought ere from the lips it part, When love is liberty, and nature law?” That night Johnson came to our room claiming that he was ill. When I inquired as to the nature of his trouble, he said he did not know what it was. He did not know whether he had the rash, whooping-cough, measles, small-pox, or cholera; but he had something, and had it bad. Whereupon I applied a flaxseed poultice to the back of his neck. Next morning found him convalescent, though not entirely relieved. I see from history that such occurrences were common in the middle ages. We have now been in Switzerland forty days. It has been forty days of hard work, and yet forty days of intense delight. We have walked nearly six hundred miles, and the last mile was stepped off with as much ease as the first mile. The last step had in it the same elasticity and firmness as the first. My youth was renewed like the eagle’s. I constantly felt like mounting on the wings of rejoicing, and gliding over the country as a disembodied spirit. In some places, the angles we made in ascending and descending were not less than sixty to seventy-five degrees! One time, when nightfall came, I was thoroughly tired—completely exhausted. Pain trembled in every limb. My knees denied their office. Hearty supper, warm footbath, bed, oblivion! Strange as it may appear, the next day was spent, not in walking but in reading history.