"Oh, it wasn't any use. After that I paid, and moved. Moved right up here, this morning. But I thought about it a good deal on the way, and concluded that, if I wasn't prepared to sample every hotel within ten miles of this cataract for the sake of not being imposed upon, I'd have to take up a different attitude. So I walked up to the manager the minute we arrived, fierce as an Englishman--beg your pardon, Squire Mafferton, but the British _have_ a ferocious way with hotel managers, as a rule. I didn't mean anything personal--and said to him exactly as if it was my hotel, and he was merely stopping in it, 'Sir,' I said, 'I understand that the guests of this hotel are allowed to subscribe to an electric illumination of the Falls of the Rhine. You may put me down for ten francs. Now I'm prepared, for the first time, to appreciate the evening's entertainment." Shortly after the recital of Mr. Malt's experiences the illumination began, and we realised what it was to drink coffee in fairyland. Poppa advises me, however, to attempt no description of the Falls of Schaffhausen by any light, because "there," he says, "you will come into competition with Ruskin." The Senator is perfectly satisfied with Ruskin's description of the Falls; he says he doesn't believe much could be added to it. Though he himself was somewhat depressed by them, he found that he liked them so much better than Niagara. I heard him myself tell five different Alpine climbers, in precise figures, how much more water went over our own cataract. It was discovered that evening that Mr. and Mrs. Malt, and Emmeline, and Miss Callis and the Count were going on to Heidelberg and down the Rhine by precisely the same train and steamer that we had ourselves selected. Mrs. Malt was looking forward to the ruins on the embattled Rhine with all the enthusiasm we had expended upon Venice, but Mr. Malt declared himself so full of the picturesque already that he didn't know how he was going to hold another castle. CHAPTER XXV. We were on our way from Basle to Heidelberg, I remember, and Mr. Malt was commenting sarcastically upon Swiss resources for naming towns as exemplified in "Neuhausen." "There's a lot about this country," said Mr. Malt, "that reminds you of the world as it appeared about the time you built it for yourself every day with blocks, and made it lively with animals out of your Noah's Ark. I can't say what it is, but that's a sample of it--'New Houses!' What a baby baa-lamb name for a town! It would settle the municipality in our part of the world--any railway would make a circuit of fifty miles to avoid it!"