This was amusing, after the information contained in the Hotel Guide
Book, which runs thus:--"Some daring ascensionists up the Rigi, only
obstinate themselves to disdain the railway, and so _walk_ up the
mountain _on foot_."
Our run down to Weggis was exhausting from the speed with which it was
done, but we soon found ourselves safely and comfortably ensconced at
the hotel at Brunnen, where we intended to spend the night previous to
proceeding by the St. Gothard into Italy.
_En passant_ we might remark on the 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.
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