Al Faizi wuz carried into that same realm, too, I could see by his mean, and the rest on ’em wuz carried off wherever their nateral bent lay—Alice into the land of Love and Hope, Martin into the Stock Exchange mebby, where the roar of its bulls and bears drownded out the sound of the organ’s grand, melancholy voice.
Listening to the organ’s grand, melancholy voice.
And Josiah, wall, mebby he wuz a-settin’ agin to a full dinner table in Jonesville, with Deacon Sypher and Drusilly and some of the other bretheren and sistern a-hangin’ breathless onto his adventers.
I d’no, I’ve only guessed at their emotions, but mine wuz a sight to see as the liquid waves of melody swep’ round me, and swep’ me along with it.
And then we see the Lion of Lucerne, a-layin’ there carved out of solid rock, in memory of the Swiss Guard, who fell defendin’ the Tuilleries in 1792. It wuz carved by Thorwaldsen, the great Danish sculptor, and is a noble and impressive sight. There it lay in a beautiful grotto, with water tricklin’ all round it, some as if the hull country wuz a-sheddin’ tears over them poor young men that perished in their prime. It lay stretched out, its hull length of twenty-eight feet, a-holdin’ in its paws the shield of France and some flower de luce—France is jest sot on them poseys, and I always liked them myself; I’ve got a big root of ’em under my bedroom winder at home in Jonesville.
I thought considerable in our short sojourn at Lucerne about William Tell, whose exploits with Gessler, apples, etc., took place in that vicinity (though I’ve hearn tell that Tell hain’t the creeter they tell on).
I thought considerable about William Tell and his exploits with Gessler, apples, etc.
But I always loved to read about him, and I always did kinder love to believe in things that ort to be true, if they hain’t—about liberty, freedom, and sech. Anyhow, he has got a high chapel built to him—mebby like some other popular idees, that haint got no greater foundation in solid truth.