Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part IV - V
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282 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
vision was dimmed, and drowsiness, akin to laziness,
enveloped the soul.
One evening, when I complained to the magistrate of
the long absence of the sun, he answered with the phlegm
which characterises the German-Swiss
—
"The sun! You can see the sun all day long on the
Hochfluh! "
The Hochfluh was one of the smaller mountain ranges
which surrounded the valley in which we lived ; it was
only two hundred metres lower than the Sulitelma, and
consequently a favourite walk of young English tourists.
Being a worshipper of the sun, I decided to make a
pilgrimage to my deity, and early one November morn-
ing I set out on my travels.
The inhabitants of Gersau, living at the base of a
mountain which, as I have already mentioned, every now
and then transforms itself into a volcano and rains rocks
and stones on the valleys, have from time immemorial
cultivated the habit of preparing themselves for death
by visiting their church three times a day, at morning,
noon and evening. I was not surprised, therefore, to
meet the church-goers now, at eight o’clock in the morn-
ing, carrying their Prayer Books in their hands. Two
old women, patiently performing their daily half-mile
trudge to morning prayers, were counting their beads on
the highroad. One of them started the angelic salutation
"Ave Maria! " and her companion joined in the burden
"In sœcula sœculorum, Amen." They kept up their
monotonous mumbling the whole way, and though this
counting of beads may not have done any actual good, it
at least prevented any misuse of the tongue ; I could not
help thinking of the well-known anecdote of the count
who made his butler whistle whenever he was busy in the
wine cellar.
Soon after I had left the old women and the highroad
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