I
The glorious day had come at last--the day when Harry and his mother and
little sister were to start on their journey to Switzerland. They were
going out for the whole winter, and Harry was frightfully excited about
it. Fancy being up 7,000 feet in the mountains, and seeing nothing but
snow, snow, snow, everywhere! And being able to toboggan and skate and
ski all day! And then the journey--to cross the Channel, and then go in
a train all day and all night!
The day had come, and Harry was safely in the train on his way to
Folkestone. Crossing the Channel was great fun. It was rather rough, and
all the old ladies sat tight in red wooden chairs, tucked up in stuffy
old rugs. They got greener and greener and looked very unhappy. But
Harry and his little sister went up on the top deck and ran about and
enjoyed themselves hugely. It was very hard to walk straight, because
the ship rolled from one side to the other, and you felt just as a fly
on the wall must feel, clinging on with the soles of your feet.
At last the white cliffs of Dover disappeared, and there was nothing to
be seen but sea and sky and half a dozen seagulls following the ship.
And then a faint line showed on the horizon ahead, and it was the coast
of France! Harry and his sister gazed at it, and thought to themselves
that it was the first time in their lives they had seen a foreign
country.
At last the boat steamed into the harbour at Boulogne. Crowds of funny
old French porters came bustling on board. They were dressed in loose
blue blouses, and they all talked in French and wrangled with each other
and the passengers, as if they were very angry. But they weren't
really--it was only their French way. Harry's mother managed to get hold
of one, and he collected all her bags and suit cases and strapped them
together on a long strap, and hung them over his shoulder. Harry thought
to himself that he had never seen one man carry so many things before.
He barged along through the crowd, shouting most rudely to make people
get out of his way. He took all the things to a place called the
_douane_--an awful place full of cross officials, who opened the boxes
and pulled things about.
"What awful cheek!" said Harry. But his mother explained it was the
Customs.
"A rotten custom, I call it, to pry about in a lady's private luggage,"
said Harry. So his mother explained it was the duty of the Customs
officers to see that certain things like food and jewellery and tobacco
were not taken into the country without duty being paid on them. When
the luggage had all been packed up once again the old French porter, who
walked just like a crab, went crawling off with his load to the train.
It was a funny train--very high: or, rather, the platform was very low.
At last they were all settled in, and in about half an hour they
started.
Of course Harry and his sister looked out of the window all the way. It
was so exciting to see France. That was before the days of the War, and
the little villages were still peaceful and happy, and the rows of
stunted willow trees stood along the straight, flat roads for miles and
miles, like silent sentinels.
On, on rushed the train. At tea time it was great fun walking along the
little wobbly passages to the dining-car. Then again for supper. By that
time Harry and his sister were very sleepy. So his mother rang a bell,
and a man came along and pressed a button and performed a conjuring
trick by which the seats were turned into little white beds, with sheets
and blankets and pillows all complete. He did another conjuring trick,
and a little bunk was produced from the wall, and Harry found his bed
all ready, a few feet above his sister's.
"When you wake up in the morning we shall be in Switzerland," said his
mother.
They slept beautifully. But every now and then they woke up to find the
train still rushing on, on, on, in the darkness. Sometimes it rushed
into a station and pulled up. It seemed to Harry that the engine heaved
a heavy sigh. Then it started on again. It was nearly six when Harry's
mother woke them up and told them to dress quickly, because soon they
would be at Bâle. So they did; and when the train stopped they got out.
They found themselves in a huge station, and it was very cold. Their
mother got hold of a porter, and they went along to a big refreshment
room, where they had their first Swiss breakfast--coffee and funny
little rolls, like half-moons, and honey.
After some time they got into another train, and travelled on until at
last, by the afternoon, they had got into the real, snowy part of
Switzerland.
Harry had never seen so much snow. But his mother said it would be even
more wonderful when they got right up among the mountains to St. Moritz.
At a place called Chur they changed into a funny little train that began
slowly plodding up the mountain passes.
Here the snow was wonderful. It lay a yard thick on the mountainside,
and was inches thick on the branches of the fir-trees. The train went
through many tunnels, and over high, high viaducts; and sometimes the
corners were so sharp that you could look out of the window and see the
tail of your own train coming round the last curve! The air was so crisp
that it seemed to give you new life, and you longed to be out
snowballing or doing something active.
The sun went down behind the great white Alps, and the snow began to
look a bright bluish purple in the dusk. And before long it was quite
dark.
"We shall soon be there, now," said Harry's mother.
After stopping at several little stations the train steamed into St.
Moritz at last, and everybody got out.