pleasure of the Lucerne Lake, "out
of season." We were the only visitors in the hotel, and were treated
with liberality in the matter of fare, and with unbounded courtesy and
attention. Our walk through the village at night was grand from its
loneliness and mystery. We have since been there in August, but, O! how
different! We do not like brass bands and noisy German tourists.

Early next morning we went by steamer over the Lake of Flueelen, and were
much struck with the view of this place from the distance--the quaint
red steeple, and the little Swiss chalets looking so pretty against the
huge mountains, which are here more striking than anywhere on the banks
of the lake.

At Flueelen we continued our journey by the St. Gothard Railway, but by
an unlucky chance we got into a compartment with an Italian professor of
languages--a terrible nuisance--who was delighted at having an
opportunity of improving his English pronunciation at our expense.

The older and wiser bachelor, realising that it was impossible to
prevent our companion from chattering, determined to turn him to
account, and commenced to ask questions in Italian, adding to his small
store of knowledge of that language. But the younger bachelor, to whom
the magnificent scenery was entirely new, would stand the worry no
longer, and got into another compartment.

The scenery of the St. Gothard Pass, at once after leaving Flueelen, is
magnificent to a degree. At every turn of the railway is presented a
scene of snow mountains, of roaring torrents, and of towering
precipices, which are so characteristic of this superb country.

At Geschenen the train stopped for about half-an-hour, so we got out and
looked about us, and found, to our delight, the whole of this superb
gorge enveloped in snow. The novelty of the sight proved so tempting
that we resolved to see more of it, and ascend to Andermatt, some miles
from Geschenen, thus sacrificing our railway tickets to Lugano.

We ordered a carriage at the station, and wrapping ourselves up
well--for it was very cold--commenced our drive in right good spirits.
Before starting we were joined by a tall, handsome Englishman, who, like
ourselves, had not been able to resist the temptation of breaking his
journey at Geschenen.

Shortly after leaving the station we entered the dreary Schoellenen
defile, certainly one of the finest in all Switzerland. The road here is
cut in the sides of huge granite rocks. At the base of