"Yes," said Rollo. "If I had some damp sand, and a little wooden shovel, I think I could make it." "People do make models of the Swiss valleys and mountains," said Mr. George. "In fact, they have maps of Switzerland, embossed with all the mountains in relief; and I wish very much that we had one here to look at." "There is one here," said Rollo, his face brightening up very luminously as he spoke. "I saw it hanging up in the gallery, and I did not know what it was. It must be that. I'll go and show it to you after breakfast." "I am very glad," said Mr. George. "I wished to see one very much. We will go and see it immediately after breakfast. But now let me tell you a little more about the country. You must not imagine that the northern slope, as I called it, is one smooth and uniform surface of descending land. There are mountains, and valleys, and lakes, and precipices, and waterfalls, and every other variety of mountain scenery scattered all over it, making it a most picturesque and romantic region. It is, however, on the whole, a slope. It begins with comparatively smooth and level land on the north and it terminates in a range of lofty mountain crests on the south; and you have to go over this crest somewhere, by some of the steep and difficult passes that cross it, to get into the central valley. We are on the margin of this slope now. When we leave here and strike into the heart of Switzerland we shall be gradually ascending it. I am going first to a place called Interlachen, which is in a deep valley far up this slope, just under the ridge of mountains. Interlachen is surrounded, in fact, by mountains, and a great many pleasant excursions can be made from it. We shall stop there a few days and make excursions, and then cross over by some of the mountain passes into the valley." "Well," said Rollo, in a tone of great satisfaction. "I shall like that; I should like to go over a mountain pass. Shall we go in a carriage, or on horseback." "That depends upon which of the passes we take," said Mr. George. "Some of them are carriage roads, some are bridle paths; and you ride over on mules or horses. Others are too steep and dangerous to ride over in any way. You have to go on foot, climbing up zigzag paths cut out of the rock, and over great patches of snow that horses and mules would sink into." "Let's go in one of those," said Rollo, straightening himself up. "Sometimes the path becomes narrower and narrower," continued Mr. George, "until it is finally lost among the rocks, and you have to clamber around the point of some rocky cliff a thousand feet in the air, with scarcely any thing but the jagged roughness of the rocks to cling to." "Yes, sir," said Rollo, eagerly. "Yes, sir. Let's go there. That's just the kind of road I want to go in."