The Lion, I suppose is Lucerne’s most distinctive curiosity.  As you will see by the card, it is a large figure of a lion carved out of the solid rock in the hillside.  Thorwaldsen furnished the model.  It was made to commemorate the bravery of the Swiss guards who fought in the service of Louis XVI at the outbreak of the French Revolution.

Switzerland is sometimes called the playground of Europe.  Down on the promenades by the lakes, one may see people from “every nation under heaven” nearly.  By the way, who do you think I met, day before yesterday?  Why, our would-be gallant ship-board friend.  Strange to say, he was sober, and more strange, he appeared pleased to see me.  He wanted to take me to all kinds of places, and treat me to all kinds of good things; but further, strange(?) to relate, I shook him for the company of a few native saints, for there was a meeting that evening which I attended.  I had to speak too, in English, of course, with one of the missionaries interpreting.  It was an odd experience.

The postman has just been here with your note.  I was very sorry the news from you was not better.  I am blaming myself for tiring you out too much with my sight seeing.  Send me at least a card everyday to this address, please.  I have thought to go through the country to Bern, but I suppose all the lakes and mountains of Switzerland look much alike.  I am quite satisfied with Lucerne.  I was very much interested in what your father said about “Mormonism.”  If our prayers are of any avail, we’ll “get him” yet.

Before I close this long letter, and I must do so now—­I want to tell you of an incident that occurred yesterday.  I was taking a stroll up above the town, by myself, for I will admit I was in a “mood.”  There are a lot of monks in Lucerne.  You can see them on the street, fat, rolly-poly looking men, bare, oddly-cropped heads, and outwardly clad in what looks like a dressing gown.  Well, I was curious to see the convent where the monks live a life of ease, I suppose to get used to the eternal “rest” which they expect when they get to heaven, of which I have my “doubts.”  However, I did not find the convent, nor did I see any monks, but as I was walking along an unfrequently traveled road, I met a little boy and girl, walking towards me, hand in hand.  They were crying.  When they saw me, they wiped their eyes and stopped.  I saw they were poorly clad, and, somewhat dirty.  I became interested in them, but they were so shy that it was with difficulty I got them to remain.  They looked at the coppers I held out, but they did not move until I placed a silver piece beside them.  Their eyes rounded out, then, and the little girl became brave enough to come and take them.  Well, I tried my German on them, but they were, evidently, too Swiss to understand me—­I was at the time making a whistle from a small willow which I had cut from the wayside.  I seated myself on the bank and went on making my whistle.  The children