DEAR GERTlE, I passed the Restaurant Titlis this morning, and thought of you and the night we spent there before they moved us to the pretty Entre-sol in the Schweitzer Hof. The Schweitzer Hof now is full, and we are lodged, Dr. McVickar and I, in the top story of the Lucerner Hof. Last night there were the band and the fireworks in front of the Schweitzer Hof, the old way.
We came here yesterday over the St. Gotthard from Lugano, on the lake of Lugano. There we had spent a day, climbing up Monte Generosa by a queer old railway, like that which climbs up the Mount Pilatus, which I can see from my window now, if I almost break my neck by twisting round the corner for a view. We came to Lugano from Cadenabbia on the lake of Como, and to Cadenabbia we had come by the Maloja Pass and the beautiful lake from St. Moritz, whence I wrote last Sunday; that is thus far our journey. . . .
Oh, I wish you were here, and that we were to go over the Brunig to-morrow to Interlaken, M. and you, and I. But you can see how it all looks. The lake, the boats, the flags, the people, and the hills around it.
I send my best love to you all, and by and by will see you at North Andover.
Yours affectionately and affectionately, P.