andlady, as I looked into this sanctuary, "you
see we are ready for them."

While I was taking my coffee, the landlord called the waiters together,
gave each a bag of small money for change, and then delivered a short,
practical address concerning their duties for the day,--who were to be
trusted and who not, how to keep order and prevent impatience, and,
above all, how to preserve a proper circulation, in order that the
greatest possible number of persons might be entertained. He closed
with: "Once again, take notice and don't forget, every one of
you,--_Most_ 10 rappen (2 cents), bread 10, _Wurst_ 15, tongue 10, wine
25 and 40," etc.

In the village there were signs of preparation, but not a dozen
strangers had arrived. Wooden booths had been built against some of the
houses, and the owners thereof were arranging their stores of
gingerbread and coarse confectionery; on the open, grassy square, in
front of the parsonage, stood a large platform, with a handsome railing
around it, but the green slope of the hill in front was as deserted as
an Alpine pasture. Looking westward over the valley, however, I could
already see dark figures moving along the distant paths. The morning was
overcast, but the Hundwyl Alp, streaked with snow, stood clear, and
there was a prospect of good weather for the important day. As I
loitered about the village, talking with the people, who, busy as they
were, always found time for a friendly word, the movement in the
landscape increased. Out of fir-woods, and over the ridges and out of
the foldings of the hills, came the Appenzellers, growing into groups,
and then into lines, until steady processions began to enter Hundwyl by
every road. Every man was dressed in black, with a rusty stove-pipe hat
on his head, and a sword and umbrella in his hand or under his arm.

From time to time the church bells chimed; a brass band played the old
melodies of the Canton; on each side of the governing Landamman's place
on the platform stood a huge two-handed sword, centuries old, and the
temper of the gathering crowd became earnest and solemn. Six old men,
armed with pikes, walked about with an air of importance: their duty was
to preserve order, but they had nothing to do. Policeman other than
these, or soldier, was not to be seen; each man was a part of the
government, and felt his responsibility. Carriages, light carts, and hay
wagons, the latter filled with patriotic singers, now began to arrive,
and I