sunshine in my heart, give some account of our ascent hither during yesterday.
The night before, at Zermatt, I had been awaked by the rain beating against my chamber-window.
“That is pleasant!” thought I; “and think of all the young girls who have accompanied me hither, on purpose to see Monte Rosa!”
In an hour's time, however, the rain had ceased, the moon shone through my window, consolingly, and I—went to sleep.
In the morning, I was awoke by Nancy's joyful exclamation:
“Mont Cervin est tout decouvert!”
I hastened up, and assuredly, there stood the defiant ice-clad giant,—or, more properly, giantess, for it is in the form of a woman, with an immense crinoline,—in glittering splendor, raising her proud head towards the clear blue heavens. Not a cloud was to be seen. How happy we were over our breakfast; and after breakfast, we began the ascent.
We were soon, all of us, either on horse or on foot, clambering up Riffelberg,—now under the leadership of Ignace Biner, the best guide in this Alpine region. And ever, as we climb, we behold the Alp-horizon become more extensive; one ice-peak after another rises up, and immense ice-fields spread out their white, shining table-cloths, between them, until the whole northern chain of Swiss Alps stands in a vast semicircle around the horizon. We halt upon gum plains on the mountain, to contemplate the glorious spectacle, whilst we rest in the sunshine. I felt indescribably grateful to be able to see this in company with my
