From London to Basle
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and villages thickly dotted here and there, the country would seem like
one vast park, as everything is kept in such a high state of cultivation.
At Dover we went on board a small steamer which took us across
the English Channel. The weather was fine, and the channel was
unusually smooth; but the waves that would have had no effect on the
Cephalonia, tossed this little steamer about, and caused considerable
sea-sickness. Our company suffered but little. At Calais we were to
take a night train for Basle. Bro. Kellogg and William thought best
to secure a berth for me in the sleeping car; but we were traveling
with second-class tickets, and the only sleeping car on this train was
a first-class coach. To exchange my ticket for first-class, and pay the
additional expense for a berth in the sleeper, would cost eleven dollars.
This, of course, we could not afford to pay. Fortunately, however,
we secured to ourselves a compartment in a car that went through to
Basle without change, and by a skillful arrangement of our satchels,
bundles, and blankets converted our compartment into a sleeping car,
and secured a degree of rest. The railroad builders of Europe have not
planned, as have those in America, to prevent the comfort of travelers;
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and if you can secure plenty of room, you can make yourself quite
comfortable for the night in these coaches that at first seem so strange
and inconvenient. We could have slept quite well had it not been for
the caretaking officials, who would throw open the door at many of the
stations, and rattle off some information which we did not understand.
About six o’clock in the morning we reached Basle. Here we
were met at the train by friends, and taken at once to the office of Les
Signes des Temps, where we met old friends whom we had not seen for
years. We are much pleased with the location of the new publishing
house. While sufficiently near the center of the town for all business
purposes, it is far enough out to avoid the noise and confusion of the
city. The building faces the south, and directly opposite is a sixty-acre
common of government land, bordered by trees. On the other side
of the common are large buildings, behind which rise gently sloping
hills covered with green fields and pretty groves. On one of the hills
directly opposite us stands a quaint little church, and an old convent
long since deserted, and occupied now only by a farmer. Back of all
this rise higher mountains, covered with dark firs and forming a fine
background to the lovely scene.