I did NOT make “some moneys,” but I DID go to Europe. Three years after this last interview with Rutli I was coming from Interlaken to Berne by rail. I had not heard from him, and I had forgotten the name of his village, but as I looked up from the paper I was reading, I suddenly recognized him in the further end of the same compartment I occupied. His recognition of me was evidently as sudden and unexpected. After our first hand-grasp and greeting, I said:—
“And how about our new village?”
“Dere is no fillage.”
“What! You have given up the idea?”
“Yes. There is no fillage, olt or new.”
“I don't understand.”
He looked at me a moment. “You have not heard?”
“No.”
He gently picked up a little local guidebook that lay in my lap, and turning its leaves, pointed to a page, and read as follows:—