memories in the heart of childhood, and, so doing, to keep alive the sacred fire in the home!”
On Sunday afternoons, the population of Lausanne, of all classes, may be seen abroad, on the promenades around the lake, garlanded, as it is, with villas, grounds, and Alps. It is a tranquil life, but holiday-like and beautiful. Generally speaking, life is enjoyed here in a quiet manner, even by the artisan class of the population. Now and then there is an exception to this rule; but, then, it is owing to foreign influences.
One day in February was the fair. On one side of the square La Riporne, at the foot of La Cité, with its magnificent old cathedral, the country-people had set up their booths, and every thing was silent and and quiet. On the other side, however, of the square, stood the French traders in their carriages or their booths, keeping up an immense talking and merriment.
“Who'll have these handkerchiefs?” cried one. “I paid for them fifty francs a-piece; but I'll sell them to you for five-and-twenty—nay, for fifteen—twelve—seven—five—three—two—one franc and seventy-five centimes,—nay, for one and fifty, one and thirty,—one and twenty-five,—one and fifteen,—one and ten, one and five—one franc a-piece! Who has one franc in his pocket? What?—You have not even ninety centimes—not one? That is miserable!—you could never lay out your money better!” and so on.
Another cried, “See this trowsers-piece, direct from Paris. If you buy it you may be dressed like a prince, a captain, an advocate, a syndic! It cost me
