“Of course they did,” said Ed; “that’s why our people settled there. The Swiss settlers must have been people of the highest character, or their descendants wouldn’t be the foremost citizens of the town, as they are to-day. It is a curious fact, by the way, that when they settled at Vevay they tried to do precisely what they and their ancestors had always done in their own country,--they planted vineyards, and set out to make wine. My father, before he died, told me that in his boyhood four-fifths of the lands cultivated by the Swiss were planted in vineyards. Henry Clay was greatly interested in their work, and tried hard to introduce Vevay wine in Washington, and to secure tariff protection for it.” “What became of the vineyards?” asked Constant. “Why, the temperance wave destroyed them. It came to be thought wrong, and even disreputable, to make or sell wine, or anything else that had alcohol in it. So, little by little, the Swiss people, who were always, above all things, reputable and moral, dug up their vineyards, and planted corn instead.” “Yes,” said Will Moreraud. “I remember hearing a rather pretty story on that subject concerning a kinsman of my own. He had his dear old grandmother--or great-grandmother, I forget which--as an inmate of his house, and when the movement to convert the vineyards into cornfields was at its height, the old lady strenuously objected. She said that she had been born in a vineyard, and had all her life looked out upon vineyards through every window. My kinsman was very tender of his grandmother’s feelings. But at the same time he was resolved to change his vineyards into cornfields. He knew that the old lady could never leave the house, owing to her great age and infirmities. So he went to every window in every story of the house and studied the landscape. Having ascertained precisely how far it was possible for the old lady to see from the windows of the house, he ordered all the vineyards beyond her line of vision destroyed, and all within it preserved.” “Beautiful!” cried Phil. “There ought to be more men like that one, if only to make the dear old grandmothers happy in the evening of their lives.” “Perhaps there are more of them than you think,” said Constant. “It’s my impression that men generally are pretty good fellows, if you really find out about them.” “Of course they are,” said Ed. “Does it occur to you that when we fellows undertook this flatboat enterprise, every man in Vevay stood generously ready to help? It is always so. Men are usually kindly and generous if they have a chance to be. As for women--” “God bless them!” cried Irv, rising to his six feet of height. “_So-say-we-all-of-us!_” chanted Phil, to the familiar tune, while the rest joined in. CHAPTER XXXIV A TALK ON DECK