f the Pennine Alps to the valley of the Rhone, even more
swiftly than the path on the south side drops downward to the valley of
the Po.

As one approaches the Hospice he is met by a noisy band of great dogs,
yellow and white, with the loudest of bass voices, barking incessantly,
eager to pull you out of the snow, and finding that you do not need
this sort of rescue, apparently equally eager to tear you to pieces for
having deceived them. Classical names these dogs still bear--names
worthy of the mountain long sacred to Jupiter, on which the Hospice is
built--Jupitere, Junon, Mars, Vulcan, Pluton, the inevitable Leon, and
the indomitable Turc, and all have for the traveler such a greeting as
only a band of big, idle dogs can give. These dogs are not so large
nor so well kept as the Saint Bernard dogs we see in American cities,
but they have the same great head, huge feet and legs, and the same
intelligent eye, as if they were capable of doing anything if they
would only stop barking long enough to think of something else.

The inside of the house corresponds to its outer appearance. Thick,
heavy triple doors admit you to a cold hall floored with stone.
Adjoining this is a parlor, likewise floored with the coldest of stone,
and this parlor is used as the dining-room and waiting-room for
travelers. Its walls are hung with pictures, many of them valuable
works of art, the gifts of former guests, while its chilly air is
scantily warmed by a small fireplace, on which whoever will may throw
pine boughs and fragments of the spongy wood of the fir. By this fire
the guests take their turn in getting partly warmed, then pass away to
shiver in the outer wastes of the room.

[Illustration: Hospice of the Great Saint Bernard.]

In this room the travelers are served with plain repasts, princes and
peasants alike, coarse bread, red wine, coffee, and boiled meat;
everything about the table neat and clean, but with no pretense at
pampering the appetite. You take whatever you please without money and
without price. Should you care to pay your way, or care to help on the
work of the Hospice, you can leave your mite, be it large or small, in
a box near the door of the chapel. The guest-rooms are plain but
comfortable--a few religious pictures on the walls; tall, old-fashioned
bedsteads, with abundant feather-beds and warm blankets. For one night
only all persons who come are welcome. The next day all alike, unless
sick or cri