.MjE1.NDg0NTQ

Lucerne Hotel Schweizerhof. Friday, September 8th In the reading room. Sister + Mamma have gone up to the Khigi + I am left to chaperone myself until seven this evening. How I hate travelling in Europe, + above all travelling in Switzerland. I began hating it when I had reached the advanced age of six, + now that I am seventeen I continue in the same frame of mind. I believe I am fated like the "Wandering Jew" to be on a perpetual journey + I do wish it would come to an end. If we settle down in a place as we did at Baden + at Nice, I like it well enough, + enjoy myself extremely, but such intervals like oasis in the desert are extremely rare, + there are months + months, composed of dreary days, spent in nasty cars or shut up in rooms at a hotel. If I were perfectly well + could walk, go sight seeing, ride horse back, + sketch as much as I want to, it might be endurable, but as it is now, I cant bear it. Now here is a specimen of it. We arrived here ten days ago; the hotel overflowing! six telegrammes procured us a comfortable salon + two bed-rooms, but very sunny. Can we change for a cooler place? Impossible! hotel is too full! First three days I feel very well, (family jubilee!) It is absolutely necessary that we see the lake of Lucerne. Feeble protestations on my part Sister carries the day, + we see it. See it with a vegance too. It is roasting when we start, half way out a tremendous Alpine storm breaks over the lake. The people on the narrow deck are packed like herrings in box, the only covering, an awning with an oil cloth over it. Down comes the rain, harder, heavier every minute. I never talk to strangers, but a this moment one of two rather swell Englishmen, makes a remark. Having shortly before been lectured for the absurdity of always keeping to myself, I answer civilly enough. Conversation becomes amusing, when suddenly a charming little stream of water descends from the roof, + makes a puddle in my Cap. Sympathy