At 10 o’clock of the morning of the 25th, I had the pleasure of presenting General Grant to the Swiss President, at the palace. President Heer spoke but little English, and General Grant no German at all, so it devolved on me to act as interpreter during the half hour’s conversation. The Swiss Parliament house, called the palace, is a very noble structure, standing on a commanding height, with the Bernese snow mountains spread out in perfect view from windows and terrace. The reception of General Grant was simple in the extreme. A common business interview between two or three private gentlemen could hardly be more devoid of official airs. President Heer himself is a simple, kindly man, a statesman loved by his people, and very well acquainted with the affairs of other countries. He had evidently “read up” on General Grant, for he had kept track of his travels, and referred to some incidents of his life in the war. As ex-President of the United States, General Grant was just as simple and kindly as was his Swiss entertainer. Each expressed gratitude at meeting here on Republican soil. “We are not so great as you Americans,” said the President, “but we are a much older Republic.” They referred to the fact that the system of a second house in Parliament was adopted from the American plan. They talked about the advantages of two houses a little, and then the General was asked to go and look at the view from the window. There is not another view like that from any other executive mansion on earth. The Swiss President does not live here. It is the official business building of the government. An American would be surprised to see President Heer’s own little private home in the suburbs of the city. “I will return this call, General Grant, in just an hour,” said the President. So we went back to the Bernerhof and waited. The return call was as simple as the first. It lasted but a few minutes, and ended in General Grant’s accepting an invitation to a banquet that the President would give in his honor that evening. I had the honor to be included in the invitation. General Badeau and Mr. Jesse Grant were also to take part. The afternoon of that day was dark and rainy; still I went walking far outside the suburbs of the town. Near to an old bridge, I came across a man standing absolutely alone, in the rain, carefully examining the queer structure. It was General Grant. He did not observe me, and I, believing that he wished to be alone, went my way down a different path. It was fully an hour before he returned to the hotel, wet and muddy. That evening at the dinner, I heard him telling a cabinet officer of a delightful walk he had in the outskirts of the city. There was no little surprise to know that the world’s guest, instead of being escorted around by committees and brass bands, had spent half the afternoon out on a country road alone in the rain.