Punchinello, Volume 2, No. 36, December 3, 1870

Chapter IV: Part II: The Alps

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These mountains, which are permanently located in Switzerland, and favorably mentioned in all the geographies, are justly admired by tourists for their grandeur, natural beauty, and good hotel accommodations.

This is a view at sunrise, by one of the early painters. Everything is up, but Mont Blanc is up more than his neighbors. The whole landscape is bathed in the golden glories of the orb of day. A bath in the morning is invigorating indeed.

These Peaks are clustered around in silent majesty. It looks as though the entire PEAK family had come here and settled. These snow-capped summits, wild ravines, mountain torrents, and the series of crags which WILLIAM TELL was in the habit of addressing, are truly soul-inspiring.

Here is a guide with his party. These guides are well-trained men, who never bolt, but always go with their party--the ultramontane. They are of high birth, and descended from the best Alpen Stock.

No one should pass the season in Switzerland without seeing these mountains. They will repay a perusal.

While the prices may not be extravagant enough for Americans, still, those who have scaled these noble elevations may well account the prospect as one of the most striking features of a foreign climb.

A SCENE IN THE TROPICS.

This gorgeous painting brings before you all the luxuriance of tropical vegetation. Magnolias and palm trees wave their heads proudly, while bananas, oranges, and bread fruit abound in rank profusion. Here the cane brake stretches away as far as the eye can reach (and to those who are not near-sighted still farther), recalling those beautiful lines of the poet:--

"Break, break, break!"

The broad river in the foreground, mountains melting away on the horizon (that's because they're volcanic), and the sun broiling and sizzling high up in the heavens, are deliciously blended together. Our artist, full of perspiration (he can blend better than any man we ever ployed), has seized upon a moment when all Nature seems to say: ("Steady there, what makes that canvas wriggle so?")

Notice the warmth of coloring; and see to what a high degree of art the general effect is carried-about 90° Fahrenheit in the shade. This picturesque object is an alligator basking in the sun. Our advice to inexperienced travellers is: "Let him bask!"

These cotton fields, rice plantations, and the colored member of Congress addressing his constituents on the right, all stamp this scene as unmistakably Southern.

We will cancel the stamp and move on.

In our next we shall find that our artist has given himself more latitude, say about eighty degrees North.

WINTER IN SPITSBERGEN.

Behold these regions of eternal ice and snow--miles upon miles of frozen real estate. There is a great ice monopoly here. All, all is blank; except the ship over in this corner. She is a prize. This is the place to buy thermometers; you'll generally find them going very low. The weather in this region is mostly day and night, but rather irregularly divided between the two.

You see these people with rough beards and red shirts, looking like New York firemen? You take one to be MOSE? You are right--they are Esquimaux. They are a tough, and hardy race. Though not precisely students, they yet consume the midnight oil--chiefly as a beverage.

This great work is the combined production of thirteen artists; twelve of them, perishing in the attempt, were handsomely buried at our expense; and the survivor is now keeping a bar, for his own consumption, at St. Paul, Minnesota. He was compelled to lay aside the brush, which accounts for the water in this corner not being frozen, as the contract stipulated. But this allows the ship to which I referred to float comfortably.

These small buildings are settlements. They are not so frequent here as in New York or Chicago, where business men inform me they occur about as often as--once in two years.

"Ice cream for sale," on this sign, has a flavor of civilization in it.

Woman does not go to the poles here, although one of them is only a few miles distant in a northerly direction, with excellent sleighing.

I would make a passing allusion to this figure, introduced by artist number nine, to please the young people. It represents a Spitsbergen lover. He is clad in fur, and has a catarrh. He is just now oh his sneeze, warbling hoarsely: "Rein deer in this bosom!"

_(Sentimental strains from the melodeon.)_

THE GRAND CANAL.

This is not the Erie Canal, but the Grand Canal of Venice. It does not own so many mules, or forward so much corn and flour, as the New York concern, but is more airy and picturesque. It is surrounded by palaces; but what is a palace without a mother?

These swan-like men-of-war are gondolas. Our skipper is called a gondolier. Every other skipper is called something worse than that if he gets in our skipper's way. I respect a man's calling; that is, if he follows it up energetically.

The Rialto, with its busy throngs.

The Bridge of Sighs, where Lord Byron is said to have stood on either hand.

A group of native beggars. This man is blind. With this Venetian blind we beg leave to close this scene.

SARSFIELD YOUNG.

* * * * *

The Flesh-pots or Paris.

A late newspaper item states as follows:--

"The Archbishop of Paris has given permission to use horse-flesh on fast days."

It is lucky for Mr. BONNER'S crack horses, then, that they are not stabled in Paris just now, since they are all considered first-rate for Fast days.

* * * * *

"SOAP"-STONES.--Wall street "rocks."

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Punchinello, Volume 2, No. 36, December 3, 1870Chapter IV: Part II: The Alps

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