KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



325 



AUTO- BIOGRAPHY OE A DOG.— No. III. 



WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



In my last, Mr. Editor, I gave you an ac- 

 count of a trip to Sauvabelin. I shall now speak 

 of a trip to the Tour de Gourzes; and this being 

 a favorite spot with my old master, I shall have 

 occasion to recur to it more than once. Entre 

 nous, many a curious thing has occurred during 

 our excursions in this direction ! Let me begin, 

 with a nocturnal promenade; — a queer fancy 

 this, of the old Bombyx! I am sure both my 

 brother and myself thought we had quite enough 

 to do in the day-time, without being obliged to 

 turn out of a snug bed to take a midnight walk. 

 However, so it was; and I recollect, quite well, 

 that the two young masters went to bed soon 

 after they had swallowed their dinner. Bombyx 

 was to arouse them about eleven o'clock. This 

 party consisted of Bombyx Atlas, his two elder 

 sons, and, instead of the old gentleman men- 

 tioned in my last, a tall, lanky German music- 

 master — a thorough merry companion by-the- 

 bye. There was also a fine Swiss, who acted as 

 guide. A genuine descendant was he of Guil- 

 laume Tell, a thoroughly fine-hearted " Vaudois." 

 Aye, he was a noble fellow, Mr. Editor, and he 

 went by the name of " Frere Jean." 



The implements of hunting were all prepared 

 early, and all was quiet in the house till about 

 half-past ten o'clock. Just then I fancied I 

 smelt bacon; and I went into the kitchen, where I 

 perceived sundry roastings and grillings going 

 forward. What's all this about? thought I; so 

 I called my brother, who was just coming down 

 stairs with " Frere Jean." Presently down 

 comes the cracked German servant, grinning like 



a Cheshire cat "What does all this mean?" 



said I to Carlo. " Hold your stupid tongue, Fi- 

 no; don't you know we are all going to the 

 • Tour de Gourzes?' " responded he gruffly. " A 

 pretty idea this, certainly!" quoth I. "Is master 

 mad? starting for the ' Tour de Gourzes' at 

 midnight! I won't go." " But you shall though," 

 said Carlo, — at the same time seizing me rather 

 unceremoniously by the ear. 



"Now, can't you two brothers just be quiet?" 

 says " Frere Jean," in his usual cool way. Just 

 then, the music-master appeared, followed by 

 Bombyx Atlas and his two sons. A tremendous 

 breakfast wag despatched; andj* at half-past 

 eleven o'clock, we all started from our house at 

 Cour, near Lausanne. The clock indexed a 

 quarter to twelve, as we passed the English 

 church at " Ouchy." Another quarter of an 

 hour brought us to Pully. Although this was 

 the middle of June it was rather chilly, and too 

 dark for us to see much. It was ver}' curious to 

 hear midnight sounded by the different church 

 clocks in the distant villages. 



On we trudged, singing merrily to beguile the 

 time, till we reached "Lutry." Next "Cully" 

 came in sight; and as we passed the little village 

 of " Villette," its celebrated " clochette " chimed 

 two o'clock. There the fatiguing part of our 

 journey commenced. All was up hill now, and 

 no mistake, till we reached "Grand Vaux;" 

 when the matin bells were sounded from its 

 ancient tower, and the first grey glimmering 



of morn broke forth. It was glorious, Mr. 

 Editor — passing glorious. There was just 

 sufficient light for Bombyx Atlas and his 

 party to perceive and lay hold of a number of 

 the caterpillars of Bryophila glandifera, which 

 were thus early feeding on the lichen that 

 grew upon the antique wall, and here I and 

 my brother got some capital cat -hunting, a 

 favorite amusement of ours. 



By and bye, the road got more even ; but we 

 were delayed a short time. The cold and the 

 unaccustomed hour caused a kind of drowsiness 

 to overtake one of the youngsters. This was 

 soon brought round by a dram of " Kirschen- 

 wasser," administered by " Frere Jean," and 

 we shortly arrived at the " Chalet du Chasseur," 

 at the foot of the mountain. Here, naturally, 

 we halted. Coffee, eggs (such eggs, Mr. Edi- 

 tor !), and bacon, sausages, butter (by Jupiter ! it 

 was butter), toast; home-baked brown bread, 

 and a fire fit for our most gracious little Ma- 

 jesty. The old-fashioned fire-place had a seat 

 for three or four on each side, under the chimney. 

 Then the blazing logs, and the crackling fag- 

 gots ! Oh, what a warming, singing, laughing, 

 barking, cackling of ducks, crowing of cocks, 

 grunting of pigs, bleating of sheep, cooing of 

 pigeons, purring of cats! I was really quite be- 

 wildered. Breakfast, number two, was de- 

 spatched, and a good glass of" Kirschenwasser " 

 after it; and dinner was ordered to be ready at 

 four o'clock. And now the party being well 

 refreshed, most vigorously pushed forward to the 

 top of the mountain. 



And here let me observe, that though this is 

 not a very high mountain, parts of it are very 

 steep and awkward. Whenever I saw Bombyx 

 Atlas slip, I felt a kind of thrill; but trusty 

 Jean was ever behind him. There was evidently 

 a sympathetic friendship between Jean and Bom- 

 byx, which was terminated only by the death of 

 the former. Somewhere about six o'clock, the 

 long-legged music-master was seen waving his 

 handkerchief from the " Tour de Gourzes " — a 

 very old ruin, the remains of a square watch 

 tower which is said to be extremely ancient. 

 AH having at length reached this spot, reposed 

 for a short time. It will not do for me to 

 attempt to describe the view from thence, Mr. 

 Editor. It is quite beyond my powers to think 

 of it; it must be seen and felt, as we felt it. Oh, 

 how transcendently beautiful was this wild Swiss 

 scenery ! 



Having each disposed of a glass of old 

 "La Vaud," which a paysan from the "Chas- 

 seur " brought up in " la Hotta," and having 

 cut their names on the ruined tower, the ento- 

 mological sport " came off." This I shall describe 

 in my next. Adieu, au reuoirl Your affection- 

 ate friend, Fino. 



CONTENTMENT, A BLESSING. 



Man's rich with little, were his judgment true; 

 Nature is frugal, and her wants are few. 

 Those few wants answered, bring sincere delight, 

 But fools create themselves new appetites. 



Young. 



