ROLLO'S LETTER.
At one place where Mr. George and Rollo stopped to spend a night, Rollo
wrote a letter to Jenny. It was as follows:--
ST. GOAR ON THE RHINE.}
_Friday Evening._}
DEAR JENNY: We have got into a very lonely place. I did not know there
was such a lonely place on the Rhine. The name of it is St. Goar; but
they pronounce it St. _Gwar_. The river is shut in closely by the
mountains on both sides, and also above and below; so that it seems as
if we were in a very deep valley, with a pond of water in the bottom of
it.
Away across the river is a long row of white houses, crowded in between
the edge of the water and the mountain. On the mountain above is an old
ruined castle, called the Cat. There is another old ruin a few miles
below, called the Mouse. I can see both of these ruins from my windows.
There is a little town on this side of the village too. We went out this
morning to see it. It is very small, and the streets are very narrow. We
came to the queerest old church you ever saw. It was all entangled up
with other buildings, and there were so many arches, and flights of
steps, and various courts all around it, that it was a long time before
we could find out where the door was.
While we were looking about, a little girl came up and asked us
something. We supposed she asked us whether we wished to see the church;
so we said _Ja_, and then she ran away. Presently we saw a boy coming
along, and he asked us something, and we said _Ja_; and then _he_ ran
away. We did not know what they meant by going away; but the fact was,
they went to find some men who kept the keys. It seems there are two men
who keep keys, and the girl went for one and the boy for the other; and
so, after we had waited about five minutes under an arch which led to an
old door, _two_ men came with keys to let us in. Uncle George paid them
both, because he said the second man that came looked disappointed. He
paid the girl and the boy too; so he had four persons to pay; and when
we got in, we found that it was nothing but a Protestant church, after
all. I like the Catholic churches the best. They are a great deal the
funniest.
We went to see the Catholic church afterwards. There was a monstrous old
gallery all on one side of the church, and none on the other. Then there
was an organ away up in a loft, and all sorts of old images and statues.
I never saw such an old looking place.
As we walked along the streets, or rather the pathways between the
houses, we could see the rocks and mountains away up over our heads,
almost hanging over the town. They are very pretty rocks, being all
green, with grapevines and bushes.
Close by the town too, up a long and very steep path, is a monstrous old
ruin. The name of it is Rheinfels. I can see it from the balcony of my
windows. Besides, uncle George and I went up to it this afternoon. It is
nothing but old walls, and arches, and dark dungeons, all tumbling down.
There was a little fence and a gate across the entrance, and the gate
was locked. But there was a man who asked us something in German; but we
could see it all just as well without going in; so we said _Nein_, which
means no.
They say that a great many years ago the French took this castle, and
then, to prevent its doing the enemy any good forever afterwards, they
put a great deal of gunpowder into the cellars, and blew it up. I did
not care much about the old ruins, but I should have liked very well to
have seen them blow it up.
The waiter has just come to call us to go out and hear the echo, and so
I must go. I will tell you about it afterwards.
The man played on a trumpet down on the bank of the river, and we could
hear the echo from the rocks and mountains on the other side. He also
fired a gun two or three times. After the gun was fired, for a few
minutes all was still; but then there came back a sharp crack from the
other shore, and then a long, rumbling sound from up the river and down
the river, like a peal of distant thunder.
It is a gloomy place here after all, and I shall be glad when I get out
of it; for the river is down in the bottom of such a deep gorge, that we
cannot see out any where. There are some old castles about on the hills,
and they look pretty enough at a distance; but when you get near them
they are nothing but old walls all tumbling down. The vineyards are not
pretty either. They are all on terraces kept up by long stone walls; and
when you are down on the river, and look up to them, you cannot see any
thing but the walls, with the edge of the vineyards, like a little
green fringe, along on the top. But there is no great loss in this, for
the vineyards are not pretty when you can see them. They look just like
fields full of beans growing on short poles.
I shall be glad when we get out of this place; but uncle George says he
is going to stay here all day to-morrow, to write letters and to bring
up his journal. But never mind; I can have a pretty good time sitting on
the steps that go down to the water, and seeing the vessels, and
steamboats, and rafts go by.
Your affectionate cousin,
ROLLO.
P.S. The Cat and the Mouse used to fight each other in old times, and
the Mouse used to beat. Was not that funny?
[Illustration]