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 Sample Final Exam #6
(Summer 2008; thanks to Hélène Martin)

1. Array Mystery
Consider the following method:
public static void arrayMystery(String[] a) {
for (int i = 0; i < a.length; i++) {
a[i] = a[i] + a[a.length - 1 - i];
}
}
Indicate in the right-hand column what values would be stored in the array after the method arrayMystery executes
if the array in the left-hand column is passed as a parameter to it.
Original Contents of Array Final Contents of Array
String[] a1 = {"a", "b", "c"};
arrayMystery(a1); _____________________________

String[] a2 = {"a", "bb", "c", "dd"};

arrayMystery(a2); _____________________________

String[] a3 = {"z", "y", "142", "w", "xx"};

arrayMystery(a3); _____________________________

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2. Reference Semantics Mystery
The following program produces 4 lines of output. Write the output below, as it would appear on the console.
public class Pokemon {
int level;

public Pokemon(int level) {

this.level = level;
}
}

public class ReferenceMystery {

public static void main(String[] args) {
int hp = 10;
Pokemon squirtle = new Pokemon(5);

battle(squirtle, hp);
System.out.println("Level " + squirtle.level + ", " + hp + " hp");

hp = hp + squirtle.level;

battle(squirtle, hp + 1);
System.out.println("Level " + squirtle.level + ", " + hp + " hp");
}

public static void battle(Pokemon poke, int hp) {

poke.level++;
hp -= 5;
System.out.println("Level " + poke.level + ", " + hp + " hp");
}
}

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3. Inheritance Mystery
Assume that the following classes have been defined:

public class Dog extends Cat { public class Cat {

public void m1() { public void m1() {
m2(); System.out.print("cat 1 ");
System.out.print("dog 1 "); }
}
} public void m2() {
System.out.print("cat 2 ");
public class Lion extends Dog { }
public void m2() {
System.out.print("lion 2 "); public String toString() {
super.m2(); return "cat";
} }
}
public String toString() {
return "lion";
}
}
Given the classes above, what output is produced by the following code?
Cat[] elements = {new Dog(), new Cat(), new Lion()};
for (int i = 0; i < elements.length; i++) {
elements[i].m1();
System.out.println();
elements[i].m2();
System.out.println();
System.out.println(elements[i]);
System.out.println();
}

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4. File Processing
Write a static method evaluate that accepts as a parameter a Scanner containing a series of tokens representing a
numeric expression involving addition and subtraction and that returns the value of the expression. For example, if a
Scanner called data contains the following tokens:
4.2 + 3.4 - 4.1
The call of evaluate(data); should evaluate the result as (4.2+3.4-4.1) = (7.6-4.1) = 3.5 and should return this
value as its result. Every expression will begin with a real number and then will have a series of operator/number
pairs that follow. The operators will be either + (addition) or - (subtraction). As in the example above, there will be
spaces separating numbers and operators. You may assume the expression is legal.
Your program should evaluate operators sequentially from left to right. For example, for this expression:
7.3 - 4.1 - 2.0
your method should evaluate the operators as follows:
7.3 - 4.1 - 2.0 = (7.3 - 4.1) - 2.0 = 3.2 - 2.0 = 1.2
The Scanner might contain just a number, in which case your method should return that number as its result.

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5. File Processing
Write a static method blackjack that accepts as its parameter a Scanner for an input file containing a hand of
playing cards, and returns the point value of the hand in the card game Blackjack.
A card has a rank and a suit. There are 13 ranks: Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Jack, Queen, and King. There are 4
suits: Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, and Spades. A Blackjack hand's point value is the sum of its cards' point values. A
card's point value comes from its rank; the suit is irrelevant. In this problem, cards are worth the following points:
Rank Point Value
2-10 The card's rank (for example, a 7 is worth 7 points)
Jack (J), Queen (Q), King (K) 10 points each
Ace (A) 11 points (for this problem; simplified compared to real Blackjack)
The input file contains a single hand of cards, each represented by a pair of "<rank> <suit>" tokens. For example:
5 Diamonds
Q Spades
2 Spades 3 Hearts
Given the above input, your method should return 20, since the cards' point values are 5 + 10 + 2 + 3 = 20.
The input can be in mixed casing, have odd spacing between tokens, and can be split across lines. For example:
2 Hearts
j SPADES a Diamonds
2 ClUbS
A
hearts
Given the above input, your method should return 36, since the cards' point values are 2 + 10 + 11 + 2 + 11 = 36.
You may assume that the Scanner contains at least 1 card (two tokens) of input, and that no line will contain any
tokens other than valid card data. The real game of Blackjack has many other rules that you should ignore for this
problem, such as the notion of going "bust" once you exceed a score of 21.

5 of 9
6. Array Programming
Write a static method named allPlural that accepts an array of strings as a parameter and returns true only if
every string in the array is a plural word, and false otherwise. For this problem a plural word is defined as any
string that ends with the letter S, case-insensitively. The empty string "" is not considered a plural word, but the
single-letter string "s" or "S" is. Your method should return true if passed an empty array (one with 0 elements).
The table below shows calls to your method and the expected values returned:
Array Call and Value Returned
String[] a1 = {"snails", "DOGS", "Cats"}; allPlural(a1) returns true
String[] a2 = {"builds", "Is", "S", "THRILLs", "CS"}; allPlural(a2) returns true
String[] a3 = {}; allPlural(a3) returns true
String[] a4 = {"She", "sells", "sea", "SHELLS"}; allPlural(a4) returns false
String[] a5 = {"HANDS", "feet", "toes", "OxEn"}; allPlural(a5) returns false
String[] a6 = {"shoes", "", "socks"}; allPlural(a6) returns false
For full credit, your method should not modify the array's elements.

6 of 9
7. Array Programming
Write a static method named reverseChunks that accepts two parameters, an array of integers a and an integer
"chunk" size s, and reverses every s elements of a. For example, if s is 2 and array a stores {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6},
a is rearranged to store {2, 1, 4, 3, 6, 5}. With an s of 3 and the same elements {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}, array
a is rearranged to store {3, 2, 1, 6, 5, 4}. The chunks on this page are underlined for convenience.
If a's length is not evenly divisible by s, the remaining elements are untouched. For example, if s is 4 and array a
stores {5, 4, 9, 2, 1, 7, 8, 6, 2, 10}, a is rearranged to store {2, 9, 4, 5, 6, 8, 7, 1, 2, 10}.
It is also possible that s is larger than a's entire length, in which case the array is not modified at all. You may assume
that s is 1 or greater (an s of 1 would not modify the array). If array a is empty, its contents should remain unchanged.
The following table shows some calls to your method and their expected results:
Array and Call Array Contents After Call
int[] a1 = {20, 10, 30, 60, 50, 40}; {10, 20, 60, 30, 40, 50}
reverseChunks(a1, 2);
int[] a2 = {2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16}; {6, 4, 2, 12, 10, 8, 14, 16}
reverseChunks(a2, 3);
int[] a3 = {7, 1, 3, 5, 9, 8, 2, 6, 4, 10, 0, 12}; {9, 5, 3, 1, 7, 10, 4, 6, 2, 8, 0, 12}
reverseChunks(a3, 5);
int[] a4 = {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}; {1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6}
reverseChunks(a4, 8);
int[] a5 = {}; {}
reverseChunks(a5, 2);

7 of 9
8. Critters
Write a class Minnow that extends Critter from HW8, along with its movement and eating behavior. All other
aspects of Minnow use the defaults. Add fields, constructors, etc. as necessary to your class.
Minnow objects initially move in a S/E/S/E/... pattern. However, when a Minnow encounters food (when its eat
method is called), it should do all of the following:
• Do not eat the food.
• Start the movement cycle over. In other words, the next move after eat is called should always be South.
• Lengthen and reverse the horizontal portion of the movement cycle pattern.
The Minnow should reverse its horizontal direction and increase its horizontal movement distance by 1 for
subsequent cycles. For example, if the Minnow had been moving S/E/S/E, it will now move S/W/W/S/W/W. If
it hits a second piece of food, it will move S/E/E/E/S/E/E/E, and a third, S/W/W/W/W/S/W/W/W/W, and so on.
?
The following is an example timeline of a particular Minnow object's movement. The ??
timeline below is also drawn in the diagram at right. Underlined occurrences mark squares ??
where the Minnow found food. ???
???
• S, E, S, E (hits food) ?
????
• S, W, W, S, W, W, S (hits food) ????
• S, E, E, E, S, E, E, E, S, E (hits food) ??
• S (hits food) ?
??????
• S, E, E, E, E, E, S, E, E, E, E, E, ...

8 of 9
9. Classes and Objects
Suppose that you are provided with a pre-written class Date as // Each Date object stores a single
described at right. (The headings are shown, but not the method // month/day such as September 19.
bodies, to save space.) Assume that the fields, constructor, and // This class ignores leap years.
methods shown are already implemented. You may refer to them
or use them in solving this problem if necessary. public class Date {
private int month;
Write an instance method named bound that will be placed inside private int day;
the Date class to become a part of each Date object's behavior.
The bound method constrains a Date to within a given range of // Constructs a date with
dates. It accepts two other Date objects d1 and d2 as parameters; // the given month and day.
public Date(int m, int d)
d1's date is guaranteed to represent a date that comes no later in
the year than d2's date. // Returns the date's day.
The bound method makes sure that this Date object is between public int getDay()
d1's and d2's dates, inclusive. If this Date object is not between
// Returns the date's month.
those dates inclusive, it is adjusted to the nearest date in the public int getMonth()
acceptable range. The method returns a result of true if this
Date was within the acceptable range, or false if it was shifted. // Returns the number of days
// in this date's month.
For example, given the following Date objects: public int daysInMonth()
Date date1 = new Date(7, 12);
Date date2 = new Date(10, 31); // Modifies this date's state
Date date3 = new Date(9, 19); // so that it has moved forward
Date bound1 = new Date(8, 4); // in time by 1 day, wrapping
Date bound2 = new Date(9, 26); // around into the next month
Date bound3 = new Date(12, 25); // or year if necessary.
// example: 9/19 -> 9/20
The following calls to your method should adjust the given Date // example: 9/30 -> 10/1
objects to represent the following dates and should return the // example: 12/31 -> 1/1
following results: public void nextDay()
call date becomes returns
date1.bound(bound1, bound2) 8/4 false
// your method would go here
date2.bound(bound1, bound2) 9/26 false
date3.bound(bound1, bound3) 9/19 true }
date2.bound(bound3, bound3) 12/25 false

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house, with windows to the floor, by which we can sit and look out upon
the Jardin du Lac and the beautiful blue waters of Lake Geneva, or Leman,
often called. Our early breakfast not having been a very nourishing one, we
decided to take another here before going out. A good one it was, and was
quickly served. While enjoying it, a lady came to us, an American, and told
us where to buy furs, where diamonds were the cheapest, and where we
could find the best places to purchase watches—giving us her card at the
same time. We were afterwards told that a number of American ladies make
quite an income from commissions earned in this way. An open carriage
was soon at hand, and from it we took our first look at Geneva. There is
nothing very remarkable about the place, as a city. There are many hotels,
and upon the quay are numerous elegant stores, mostly jewelry stores. In
some of these we saw the beautiful enamelled watches, that are nowhere
else so exquisitely made. Watches in almost everything saw we here—in
necklaces, bracelets, canes, and umbrellas, and at all prices. We went into
one of the factories, and found that women do much of the fine work, a
certain number working only on certain parts, and therefore constant
practice makes them extremely dexterous in their specialty. They were well
dressed, and looked intelligent and contented.
Here the lake receives the waters of the Rhone, and about midway of the
fine bridge which crosses it is Rousseau’s island, on which stands a bronze
statue of him. The upper streets of Geneva are very hilly, and the older part
is quaint and odd in its buildings, like the old French towns. We saw the
house Calvin lived in, and went into the church where he preached his hard
logic, but we could shed no tears for his departure from this world, but
might for the suffering Servetus, whom he caused to be burned for not
believing as he did. It has always seemed to me that the stern, dogmatic
Calvin showed a spirit of malice, as well as great uncharitableness, but of
course, in those days very few lived who considered it right for one to have
an opinion different from their leaders. What a huge bonfire there would be
if freethinkers were thus treated in these days! And was it not Calvin, also,
who caused the Prince of Condé to be punished because he made himself
agreeable to ladies, and thereby injured the interests of God? That reminds
us of one club man who is always at his club when we want him for better
purposes. Has he a little of the spirit of Calvin?
This city is full of associations of intellectual lives which bring fragrance
of good deeds, the good works of Mme. de Staël, her Father Neckar, of
Pestalozzi, Père Gérand, and many others.
In the afternoon we took a sail up the lake. The shores are closely dotted
with hotels, fine residences, little villages, picturesque chalets, fronted with
green, well-kept lawns, running to the water’s edge, on the one side of the
lake, while the Alps rise high and dark on the other. We landed at Nyon, and
climbed innumerable steps to see an old castle, from which we had
charming outlooks. We sailed back to Geneva at the hour of sunset. All my
life I had heard much of the sudden, striking color changes that sunset
produces on the summits of the Alps—and we have seen them in all their
great beauty. At one instant, the terraces of mountain tops looked as if
clothed in gold, and next as if painted crimson,—and as the sun sunk lower
they were left huge dark piles, casting their shadows over us. On landing,
we took a walk, and inspected the much-heard-of monument of the Duke of
Brunswick, for the erection of which he left plans and money. Did not
admire it. It is very ‘giddy,’ but the placing of it there poured funds into the
treasury of the town. We looked at the pretty little American church with a
tender interest, for one dear to us was married within its walls. In the
evening we went to an open-air concert, and a very good one too, in the
garden in front of our hotel.
Called at an office to see about getting front seats on diligence, for our
trip to Chamouni to-morrow. F. speaking French the better, did the talking,
but was assured we could have no front seats for the next day, and we were
about coming to the conclusion that we should have to take back ones,
much to our disappointment; but it is here as almost everywhere else, if you
are willing to take ‘back seats’ you may never take front ones, and this time
I was not willing. Remembering the potency of the silver key, I resorted to
that as a forlorn hope, mixed in with my poor French, and succeeded in
securing the desired places. On our way home, F. said she feared my
earnestness and my not always grammatical French might place me in as
bad a position as an American woman occupied, of whom she heard this
story. She was rather proud of her somewhat limited knowledge of the
French language, and fond of airing it. She went to secure places on a
diligence for one of the Swiss mountain trips, and approaching the
conductor, demanded—
‘Etes-vous les diligence?’
‘Non, Madame, pardon; Je suis le conducteur.’
 Lady—somewhat angry at the correction—said excitedly, ‘C’est tout de
même; Je prenderai deux places dans votre interieur?’
July 9th, 1888.—Never a pleasanter morning dawned for a ride on a
diligence! Ours was a new one, painted in bright colors, and we had the two
seats between the driver and conductor. Our six strong horses wore strings
of bells about their necks, and we started off right merrily. The road from
Geneva to Chamouni is as familiar to tourists as the way from the Oxford to
Boston Common, but all do not see it alike, and you have not seen it at all,
so I know you will enjoy hearing of it, told to you in my way. The road over
which we rolled was simply perfect, and the panorama in front of and about
us, magnificent. We went through the valley of the Arve, past well-
cultivated farms, and little factories run by water turning the big wheels,
past pretty chalets, nestled in green, stopping often to change horses and
drivers, when the pretty Swiss children would gather about us and entreat us
to buy their nosegays of wild flowers. There is something so pathetic in the
faces of these little ones, that we could not find it in our hearts to disappoint
them, so our decorations became as thick as those of a brigadier-general.
But soon we leave these rural scenes, and strike into scenery so grand
that I fear it is beyond description. Imagine us going over the road, with the
river tumbling, foaming, along by its edge, the mountains towering up on
each side of us, some rocky, others covered with green pines, with a sheet
of mosses, lichens, and mountain blossoms at their bases, and frequent
cascades of water rushing down pell-mell from tremendous heights,
forming vast clouds of vapor long before reaching the valley below, and
sparkling in the rays of the sun like millions of diamonds. One long, narrow
waterfall, fringed with green foliage, like orange leaves, well merited its
name of ‘the bridal veil,’ so pure, lace-like, and fleecy did it look. ‘This will
be a fine day to see Mt. Blanc,’ said our conductor, and soon the mountain
chain, with every shape of peak, including Mt. Blanc, shot up like giant
commanders above the regions of the clouds, in full view against the blue
sky background, which blue was intensified by the snow-clad tips. After
leaving the Baths of St. Gervais, a health resort approached through a
beautiful avenue of trees, and where we dined, we find the road even better
than at its beginning. These roads were built, and are taken care of, by the
Government, and there is scarcely a stone or an uneven place on them.
Every few miles we see crosses erected, some costly ones, but more of
wood simply painted, with images of the Saviour or of some saint on the
pedestals or in glass cases. Over the doors or windows of most of the
houses are statues or pictures of saints, for we are in Catholic Switzerland
now. Here too we are assailed by beggars, and from one house the whole
family, including the grandparents, all ragged and dirty, besieged us for
alms. What a blot is this upon beautiful Switzerland. On this road also we
first saw victims of cretinism and goitre. We met one old beggar woman
whose neck was so swollen that we could only see the upper part of her
head protruding from the swollen mass of flesh beneath. We were told that
the medical and scientific men of the country have for years endeavored to
ascertain the cause and a cure for this loathsome disease, but have so far
been unsuccessful. Many attribute it to the use of snow water, but I should
be more willing to think the use of no water caused it, for dirtier, more
repulsive-looking: mendicants I never beheld. At about seven P.M. we
reached the little village of Chamouni, and alighted at our hotel without a
feeling of fatigue, so comfortable and full of delight had been our trip.
 LETTER VI.
Chamouni is a small town at the foot of the mountains, surrounded in all
directions by grand scenery, and the river Arve rushing through it, but our
impressions of the place we will give you to-morrow. We find our hotel full
of people from all over the world, and, alas, we see by the register that
some friends from Boston have just left. Why could they not have stayed
one day longer? We rush from table d’hôte into the yard to see a party
dismount from their mules after a day’s excursion in the mountains, and a
tired but jolly crowd they were. ‘This is what you have got to do to-morrow,
so pick out your thoroughbred,’ said F. I scanned the creatures, but took no
stock in them; but mules have a wise look.
Chamouni, July 10th.—What a day this has been in my calendar, to be
sure! Thanks be to the good Lord that I am alive to-night to tell you about
it. This early morning, before breakfast, we took a stroll about the town,
which is composed greatly of hotels, as this is everybody’s starting point for
the mountain and glacier trips of this part of Switzerland. There are two or
three churches here and some stores, and groups of small but comfortable-
looking homes, but mules predominate—mules in the streets, mules in
every yard, and mules on every corner; in fact, the principal part of the
population is mules and the principal part of industry mule riding, at least
one would so judge from the general aspect. We met a party of gentlemen
coming from Mt. Blanc, who had made a hazardous journey, and for whom
we had heard some anxiety expressed by their friends at the hotel, but they
are safe, and we imagine the young, rosy-cheeked English maiden will now
leave the telescope, where she has stood for so much of the time since our
arrival, looking anxiously toward the ice-capped giant, hoping to see
‘Albert.’ There is probably much satisfaction to scientists in the ascent of
Mt. Blanc, but to the man ordinary one would not think it would pay, as the
results are often quite serious, even if one does get through with whole
limbs—the skin generally peels from one’s face and the eyesight is often
badly affected.
We stepped into the church for a blessing and back to our hotel, the
D’Angleterre, for breakfast, with an appetite ready to devour anything. The
table is excellent, and such butter! so sweet and fresh, that one eats an extra
roll for the sake of the butter with it. Here we met some friends from
America, who are to join us on our trip to the Mer de Glace. ‘But I do not
wish to ride a mule; can I not be carried in a chair?’ ‘No, no,’ said the
crowd, ‘here they come, mules and guides.’ ‘Come now, let us get started;
you may have the first choice,’ said F. ‘Six mules and three guides. And is
that what you engaged? I must have the whole attention of one guide.’ I
opened conversation thus with the oldest man, who seemed used to being
questioned: ‘Which is the easiest trotter?’ ‘Not much difference, all easy.’
‘These saddles look hard,’ said I. ‘The softest in Chamouni.’ I walked
around one mule, and he, eying me, brayed in disapproval, but by this time
the rest of the party had mounted the other five, and I was helped to the
saddle of this sixth one, wondering how my one hundred and thirty pounds
avoirdupois looked at mule-back elevation, not daring yet to think how a
back not made of iron might stand the ordeal. After a good deal of
merriment in getting started, out of the yard we filed, a gay party, two ladies
and three gentlemen, all thinking it delightful but myself. For a while muley
was very demure, and the fearless riders kindly gave to me the most
experienced guide, so we led the string. The zigzag path as we ascended the
mountain, however, grew narrower and steeper, with now a big stone in the
way, and next a slippery hole made by running water, and my beast gave me
terrible shakings as if he would rather ‘go it alone.’ The young people in the
rear were enjoying the scenery, and I could hear their gay voices and
exclamations of delight, but I did not think it such a good time, for I had to
give my entire attention to keeping on my saddle, such bumps into the air
that mule did give me. My guide said he was young and playful, and there
was no danger, which quite reassured me, notwithstanding he endeavored to
whirl about very often, as if he had been stung, or had hit his crazy bone, or
stepped on an electric wire. F. cries out, ‘Do not be frightened; you will get
used to it.’ But when the creature suddenly jumped from the hand of the
guide, a yard or two down the embankment, with the yawning precipice
below, to eat a bunch of green grass he had spied, almost throwing the
guide down, and I keeping on only by holding on to his neck with both
arms for dear life, I concluded I would not wait to get used to it, and
dismounted, feeling that ‘shanks mare’ was a safer medium of locomotion
than a Chamouni mule. The creature knew well that he had scored a victory,
shook his long ears satisfactorily, winked considerably and wisely, and
walked along contentedly. And so did I. We saw many wild goats and one
chamois, only that was in a little house and for the sight of it we had to pay.
We met a number of pedestrians with their alpine sticks, and I gathered
large bunches of lovely, bright-red flowers, called the mountain rose,
somewhat like our rhododendron.
It took us about three hours to reach the summit where the Mer de Glace,
the great sea of ice, came in sight. The glacier extends for about twelve
miles, and at this spot is about two miles wide, a solid mass of ice with
enormous cracks and crevices, with tall ramparts, turrets, and towers of ice,
all glistening in the sunshine like crystal, scintillating with gorgeous colors.
From the hotel piazza, which hotel, a new one, stands on the plateau above
the gorge, the effect is dazzlingly grand. At the hotel we were provided with
strong alpine sticks, with socks and shoes, for walking on the ice, and with
fresh guides commenced our journey across. It was difficult getting along
sometimes, but the beauty, strangeness, and fearfulness of it all more than
repaid us for the physical exertion. We were on the ice, with frozen
mountains and spires all about us. Many of the columns and pinnacles and
huge pieces of ice looked like crystal cathedrals and palaces. In other places
it appeared as if huge sea waves had been instantaneously frozen. A grotto
had been naturally formed, into which four of us stepped. Deep crevasses,
hundreds of feet deep, met us, some narrow enough to leap over, and others
we passed over on little ice bridges our guides made for us. Midway we
halted, looking about us, lost in wonder and amazement, when suddenly we
were brought back to everyday life by a photographer, with his camera,
suddenly appearing before us asking in plain English if we would have our
pictures taken. Where the man came from we did not see, nor where he
went we cared not, for we did not choose to be served up on ice that day.
We crossed safely and recrossed at a different place, where the ice scenery
varied as much as mountain scenery does from various outlooks, and we
felt that never in our lives before had we seen anything so magnificent. As I
was ascending the jagged points of the cliff to step on land, something
fluttered like a feather before my eyes; but I soon saw that it was a
butterfly; my guide caught it for me, and I had, as my trophy, a pure-white
butterfly. My guide, an intelligent fellow, said he occasionally saw gray
ones, but had never before seen a pure-white one there. A few yards from
this sea of ice vegetation flourishes, and almost at its very edge I found a
cluster of little blossoms resembling our ‘forget-me-not,’ only white instead
of blue. They grew very close together, and none others of their kind were
to be seen, and they looked as though they realized that they had been left
out in the cold, far from home, and tried to comfort each other.
At the hotel we had a poor dinner, for which we paid a big price, but the
magnificent views we here had from the house piazzas made up for it.
Clouds began to thicken and we made hasty preparations for our descent. I
exchanged mules, and the last one proved less frisky, but our going down
the mountain seemed more hazardous than going up. Pretty Miss M., of
Nashville, Tennessee, with her bright golden hair streaming over her blue
cloth dress, led the van on my former steed, who, apparently feeling proud
of his lighter burden, behaved very well, but we had not gone far when the
rain poured as only it can pour in these mountains. We were all provided
with umbrellas, but I had to use my hands to hold on to the pommel of my
saddle, for my mule’s hind feet were higher than his front ones, and I
preferred getting wet to being dismounted. A boy had trotted up the
mountain with us, and kept near us on our way down, so I gave him my
umbrella, as it was impossible for me to use it, to protect himself. (More of
that umbrella later.) As we neared the valley it ceased raining, the clouds
broke, and for a little while the sun shone brightly and sank slowly in the
west just as we entered our hotel yard, the young people exclaiming to
those who came out to greet us, ‘We have had a charming time,’ but I, with
every article of clothing thoroughly soaked, and my body feeling as if I had
been under a thrashing machine, parted with mule society most willingly.
Of our guides let me here say, in case you come this way some time,
they were all careful, polite, and attentive to us, and from mine, although he
could not speak one word of English, I gained considerable information in
regard to Chamouni guides. They are formed into a society and are
employed in rotation, sometimes showing sufficient gallantry, however, to
allow ladies travelling without gentlemen to choose their guides, if for any
reason they have a preference. These men, before they can be accepted by
the club, must be familiar with the mountains and the glaciers and must be
proven to be honest and reliable. My guide was evidently a man of
observation, and told me the guides all liked Americans, they seemed to
enjoy everything so much. ‘The American ladies look happy; the English
ladies are sad,’ he said, probably meaning that they were not as enthusiastic,
for the people of every country like to have its wonders appreciated. With
aching limbs I retired early, and F. thought manipulation, with a little hot
water and whiskey, might ward off a severe cold, and I submitted to the
treatment, while the others, not a bit used up, went off for an evening’s
ramble. I think they must have been brought up on mules.
Wednesday, July 11th.—When we went to pay our bill this morning we
found amongst the items charged, ‘eight glasses of whiskey.’ ‘What does
this mean?’ ‘Means that Madame has had eight glasses of whiskey.’ ‘There
is some mistake; the only whiskey we have had was about half a gill, and
probably not that, brought up to me in a wine-glass last night.’ ‘No,
Madame, no mistake; we are very particular.’ ‘Do I look like a woman that
has had eight glasses of whiskey? Take that off my bill, that I may pay what
I owe you,’ said I, and I immediately counted out the amount, including one
gill of whiskey. All of this in French, which I could not talk fast enough to
show him the depth of my anger. F. was getting alarmed, and whispered,
‘Don’t mind; do pay it.’ ‘No, I will not pay one sou of it, for we do not owe
it,’ and the clerk, seeing that I was determined, accepted what I gave him
and receipted the bill. Now if that man was honest, he thinks we have
defrauded him; if not honest, he will conclude American ladies are
business-like at least.
After this scene we were about ready to jog along, our carriage in the
yard waiting for us, to which I went to deposit some wraps, when my boy of
yesterday made his appearance, and said, ‘I want my pay for carrying your
umbrella.’ I looked at him with the stare of a maniac! ‘Pay! why, I loaned it
to you, to keep you dry.’ I was in no mood to be imposed upon; but the boy
began to cry, so I gave him a penny or two, and wondered what would be
the next demand.
The carriage which was to take us to Martigny was like a buggy with the
top tipped back, and a comfortable seat for us two and a short seat front of
us for our driver. Two good horses and a bright morning. Our tickets had
been purchased for this trip ‘half way by mule,’ but by losing something, I
was enabled to exchange them. No more mule riding for me! We were told
by friends that if others were going over the same route, by joining forces
and hiring a two-seated vehicle, expenses for all would be much less. We
spoke of this at the hotel office the day before, twice, but were each time
assured that there was no one else going, and consequently our day’s trip
was a costly one. At nine A.M. we bade our friends, who were going on to
Geneva, adieu, and saw the last of Chamouni.
The Swiss are considered an honest people, but they either show great
carelessness or we have several times been cheated. At the Baths of St.
Gervais, upon paying for our dinner, they did not return to us enough
change; we both knew they did not, and yet the man who took the money
declared they did, and as we had not time to contend the case, we let it go.
To be sure, there is some dishonesty everywhere, and some honesty that is a
little hard to understand. The whiskey case might have been of that class;
something like the bills of some American dressmakers, who, after charging
for every possible thing that could be used in making a dress, modestly put
at the end of the long list: ‘Findings, one dollar.’ I have never been able to
find out the definition of that word ‘findings.’
 LETTER VII.
Martigny.
Our ride of thirty miles has been delightful. There is no railroad, of
course, from Chamouni to this place. We passed many pedestrians of both
sexes, with their bags and waterproofs strapped across their backs,
following in a line like a row of ants, apparently having a jolly time seeing
Switzerland on foot; also passed parties on mules. The scenery was glorious
all the way. We looked back to take our last view of Mt. Blanc and the Mt.
Blanc range and the lovely valley below. Our road was good, but in some
places so narrow, and the ravines so deep on the one side and the mountains
so high on the other, that it gave us a little anxiety; but our driver was very
cautious, and soon inspired us with confidence. Up and down we went,
constantly seeing new and wonderful views—deep gorges, waterfalls, and
the green-clad mountains; and at last, through a tunnel cut through a solid
rocky point of the mountain that blocked the road, we came to Tête Noire,
where we stopped to refresh man and beast.
Upon going in to dinner we were surprised to see there two ladies whom
we met at Chamouni the day before, and who were travelling alone like
ourselves. They told us they left at eight o’clock, after being assured that no
others at the hotel desired to come with them, as far as was known; so they
had a carriage to themselves as we did, when we should all have been glad
to have made the trip together. Was that a mistake also? After dinner we
continued our journey, with four other carriage loads in our train, which
made the trip seem very social and jolly. We passed through a beautiful
forest, and then into an opening past houses far apart, pasture lands, and
fields of pretty wild flowers. Here we saw pansies growing wild in great
profusion, and the lovely pink, and crimson yarrow. In our descent of the
Col de Forclag we had a fine viem of the Rhone valley, and at about six P.M.
reached Martigny. Switzerland is indeed mighty; and its great mountains, its
lakes and valleys, make us cry out, in truth, ‘Great is Thy firmament, O
Lord, and wonderful the works of Thy hand!’ Martigny is a small village in
the valley, where we are to spend the night.
Thursday, July 12th, 1888.—We can see, in the distance, St. Bernard
covered with snow, and would like to see the celebrated hospice, the self-
sacrificing brothers and their noble dogs, but shall not take the time this
season, but hope to, some time. Of the two great gifts, memory and hope, I
know not which gives us the most satisfaction. There is but little of interest
at Martigny—a good place to rest; and feeling entirely refreshed we left at
nine A.M. for Interlaken in steam-cars, which seem quite a novelty to us
now. I think I was rather glad to get out of the mountain region for a little
while: one’s eyes grow weary with the looking up and the looking down,
and the mind tired in the appreciating of so much sublimity at once. The
country we came over was charming; fields of wild flowers of every color
looking as if arranged by an artistic hand, and the hillsides covered with
vineyards. Our road, for a long distance, kept near Lake Geneva; the water
looked as deeply blue as a sapphire, and the sail-boats and steamers passing
each other made a pleasing scene.
At Chillon we stopped to see the ‘Castle of Chillon.’ It is a picturesque
old building, with turrets and towers, standing on a point of rock that
extends out into the lake. The ring of iron to which Bonnivard was chained
is still there; and the path which his feet wore in the stone floor, in the
weary, solitary six years’ march back and forth over those few stones, is
plainly visible.
 ‘Chillon! thy prison is a holy place,
And thy sad floor an altar, for ’twas trod,
Until his very steps have left a trace
Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,
By Bonnivard! May none those marks efface;
For they appeal from tyranny to God.’

It would be almost impossible for one to keep from quoting Byron’s

lines here, for everything we see brings them to mind, and on one of the
pillars is his name, cut by his own hand. To look at the dungeons and cells
makes one’s blood run cold, and even worse is the deep, deep hole down
which prisoners, untried, were thrown to fall upon pointed iron stakes. And
while these terrible horrors were being perpetrated below, above it all, Duke
Victor Amadeus and his Duchess ate, slept, and enjoyed themselves. Could
they have been human? We saw many implements of torture, which made
our heads swim with pain even to look at them, and be told for what they
had been used, and we gladly turned our backs upon it all and walked out
into God’s sunshine, thanking Him, as never before, that we live in an age
when such things are kept only as ancient curiosities. This portion of ‘clear,
placid Leman’ and the country around it bring forcibly to mind many
portions of Childe Harold’s pilgrimage.
Our next stopping place was at Lausanne, and at the station we met some
Boston friends, seeing them just long enough for an affectionate greeting
and to say good-by, every one of us

‘All kind o’ smily round the lips,

An’ teary round the lashes,’

for home faces are sweet to look upon, and our own language sweet to hear,
in this far-away land. Here we changed cars for Berne, and of all the queer-
looking towns, this is the queerest. Having but a few hours here, we are
inclined to give the most of it to the bears. The city’s coat of arms is a bear,
and pictures, carvings of, and stuffed bears meet one’s gaze everywhere, on
clocks, fountains, towers, houses, and public buildings; and at a restaurant
where we called for ice cream Bruin’s figure was served to us in chocolate.
There is also a den containing about twenty live bears, who are sacredly
cared for by the city government, and they walk about and climb poles with
more dignity than common bears, as if fully realizing that they are
‘monarchs of all they survey.’ We were driven through the principal streets
and thought the homes of the people looked very comfortable, with the
outside balconies at the windows, and the red-covered cushions on them, as
if inviting travellers to stop and rest. It happened to be cheese market day;
and in the middle of a square were long tables covered with piles of cheese,
of all shapes and colors, enough to provide the citizens of the whole world,
for the rest of their lives, ‘cheese for their doughnuts.’ But the odor! It was
not to us ‘of Araby blest.’ There is a great deal of beautiful carved
woodwork here, and how we want to buy everything odd and pretty, but oh,
those ‘duties’ to come. We went into the cathedral, which is a handsome
one, and walked on its terrace, from which we had a fine view of the river
Aar and distant mountain peaks. We then hastened to the old clock tower, to
be there at just the time to hear and see the curious old clock strike the hour
of six. A cock steps out and flaps his wings, an ogre eats a child, and has his
pockets full of children in reserve to be similarly disposed of, a troop of
bears march across the tower, and a man strikes the number of the hour on a
big bell with a hammer. These, you understand, are all statues carved of
wood, and move correctly every hour. A bearded man also turns an
hourglass and counts the number of the hour by raising a sceptre and
opening his mouth as if speaking. One needs to look very closely to see all
the movements, and the whole is wonderfully ingenious, and it is indeed an
‘old clock,’ as it was built in the year 1191.
After leaving Berne, we changed cars twice before reaching the lake. I
cannot understand why the railroad officials of Switzerland do not arrange
matters to dispense with so much changing from one car to another, and
also to shorten the delays, unless they are desirous of accommodating the
women they employ, in giving them ample time to finish whatever they
may be doing ere they blow that horn, which sounded like a ‘Swampscott
fish horn,’ and which at several stations has seemed to be the order for us to
move. At one station I saw a woman come through a gate with a horn or
trumpet, or whatever it may be called, and partly raise it to her mouth as if
to sound the signal for us to start, but suddenly, seeing a dog scratching up
the earth in her garden, ran and beat the dog first, then returned and tooted
loudly, and off we started. A short sail on Lake Thun, which seemed weird
and lonely, as it was by this time quite dark, another car ride, and we see the
lights of Interlaken, which speak to us of rest, for we are weary.
 Interlaken, July 14th.—This is cheerful. Everything at our hotel, the
Victoria, looked delightfully pleasant to us this morning as we tripped down
stairs as good as new. ‘What a pretty front yard, and do see all of these huge
hotels in a row; do you suppose they are all full?’ said F. Well, Interlaken
does seem to have hotels enough to take in all the tourists of the world, but
they are all well filled at this season. The shops are attractive, and the pretty
girls in them, dressed in their native costumes, are very polite and seem
perfectly willing to show their wares without urging one to buy. But the
beautiful embroideries are temptation enough for one to spend money,
without any words. We saw in every shop handkerchiefs more beautiful
than in the last we entered, although we declared those there, when we
looked at them, were the loveliest that could be made. And the exquisite
embroidered soft white laces almost make one want to be a bride to wear
them. Girls and women are sitting in the stores, on the steps, in their door
yards, and in the parks, all busy embroidering. We have a good view of the
Jungfrau from our hotel piazza. We have taken long walks in and about the
town, and very pleasant ones. We wandered into a church and found that
one half of the building was used by the Presbyterians and the other half by
the Catholics. We were pleased to meet some friends from Boston here,
who added much to the pleasure of our stay.
July 16th.—F. has been with Mr. F., one of our home friends, over the
Wengern Alp to Grindelwald and Lauterbrunnen to see the glaciers and the
ice-caves. I declined, not caring for another mule ride. They report having
had a fine time, repaid fully by the sights they enjoyed, and rode horses
instead of mules,—and horses do have some consideration for their riders.
Evenings we have had ‘hops’ at our hotel and fine music, and after table
d’hôte are always entertained by the orchestrian and the bright-looking little
wooden man that wields the baton.
Lucerne, July 17th.—A short ride from Interlaken this morning early
brought us to Lake Brienz, which we sailed across, stopping for a short time
at Giessbach to see the falls, which are formed from numerous cascades.
Their reputation is the greater part of them. We left the steamer at Brienz
and took steam cars to travel over the Brunig Pass. Until this summer,
travellers have been obliged to make this journey by carriage or mules. The
new railroad is narrow, and the sides of the little cars are of glass, so that
the scenery all about us can be easily seen. We crept cautiously, slowly
along, up the zigzag road, higher and higher, through jagged rocks and
under them, clasping each other’s hands and almost holding our breath, so
fearfully grand did it all seem. The lovely Meiringen valley below, lying
peacefully dotted with pretty villages and protected by high mountains on
each side, seemed very far from us, and the river running through its centre
looked like yards of silver ribbon unfurled to beautify some one’s bridal
day. But when the descent is safely made we almost want to go back again,
it was all so beautiful. The last two hours of our day’s travel was on Lake
Lucerne, the loveliest bit of water in all Europe. A tall, gaunt, masculine-
looking German woman happened to sit near us on the boat, and seemed to
look upon us as ‘curiosities,’ and to feel it her duty on her native soil to give
us some information. This woman had been all day at work in the
mountains, but at what we could not understand. Coarse and repulsive-
looking as she was, she had a good bit of the poetic temperament in her
nature, and knew every mountain peak and bit of scenery in sight and the
traditions connected with them. The peasant women of Switzerland, owing
to their toilsome lives, wear a look of anxiety and hardness in their faces
that a woman’s face ought never to have. And yet there is no country in the
world, excepting our own, where women have done so much for the
progression, education, and good of their sex. In Protestant Switzerland
there is but little begging; in Catholic Switzerland beggars waylay you at
every turn. It was nearly sundown when we crossed the lake, and Mt.
Pilatus showed off well and did not disappoint us. The old German woman
assured us that Pontius Pilate fled there from Jerusalem, heart-broken, and
ended his life by throwing himself into the lake: ‘See, right in that spot,’ she
said, ‘he threw himself!’ Then as if reflecting, added, ‘But Pilate did what
was—what he had to do.’ All this she spoke in German, and I have given
you the literal translation. Who shall say that woman was not a
philosopher? Pointing in another direction she said, ‘That is where Kriss
Kringle was born. Does he come down the chimneys in America? It is well
for children to know him.’ And this woman of sentiment and feeling worked
daily out of doors. The scenery from Lake Lucerne is indeed beautiful and
is full of glorious associations, for it was about here that the struggle was
made for the liberty and freedom of Switzerland and her people. The
mountains all about us, the stately chateaux, the pretty chalets, old watch
towers, castle ruins, and the green foliage about them, the beautiful lake,
and the steamers going and coming, make a peaceful, restful scene. The sun
sinks almost out of sight, and all at once, as a surprise, we turn, and are at
the city of Lucerne.
 LETTER VIII.
Lucerne, July 18th, 1888.
In going to the breakfast-room this morning I saw, in a pantry we
passed, some real cucumbers, green and fresh looking, as if they had just
been picked in a garden I am thinking of, not a hundred miles from Boston.
My mouth fairly watered for a few crisp slices. I had a conversation with
my table waiter about them, who thought it might be possible to get some
for me. I waited patiently with refreshing anticipations, but when they came
their crispness had departed: they were soaked in oil. I longed to go into
that kitchen and teach the cook how to serve cucumbers. But making the
most of the hard bread, which I very much dislike, and it is the same all
over the Continent—crust an inch thick, and the passable beefsteak and
poor coffee, we got through our morning meal. We soon forgot our
disappointment at breakfast in the delight of getting letters. Oh how glad to
read them, and no bad news. Now we can go out sight-seeing, stronger and
happier than ever.
Lucerne is beautifully situated on both banks of the river Reuss, with the
lake in front, and has many attractions, I think. The lake, this clear morning,
looked so luring that the first thing we enjoyed was a sail to Fluellen, where
we took carriage for Altorf, the village made classic forever by the heroic
deeds of William Tell. The spots of ground where his son was placed and
where Tell stood when he shot the apple from the boy’s head were shown
us. In our school days, Tell was ever one of our favorite patriots, and we
fear we always felt glad of that hidden second arrow, which was to have
shot the tyrant Gessler if the first had killed his boy. On our return to
Lucerne we saw the old castle of Hapsburg, once the summer home of
Wagner. The king of the sights of the town is, however, the Lion of
Lucerne. This piece of sculpture is, as everybody knows, a monument to the
brave Swiss guards of whom we thought so much about at Versailles. The
beast is twenty-eight feet long, magnificent in proportions, and cut out in
relief on the face of the natural rock. He is wounded by a spear, and dying,
but making a desperate struggle, even in death, to protect the shield of
France. There is a pathetic expression in the expiring creature’s face that is
almost human. Ivy and running vines cover the sides of much of the huge
rock about him, and at its foot is a pond of clear water in which the whole is
reflected. The lion was designed by Thorwaldsen, the noted Danish
sculptor, who was born in Copenhagen, and whose Reliefs of the Seasons,
and his Day and Night, are familiar to you from the photographs. ‘We
cannot let our eagle scream here, F.,’ said I; ‘Cogswell fountains do not
equal this.’
We went into the Glacier Garden and saw the bas-relief of Central
Switzerland, modelled from nature by General Pfyffer one hundred and
forty years ago; and were then driven to the old cathedral, where there is a
fine organ handled by a noted organist every evening. It is quite the fashion
for visitors in the place to flock there to hear the music after dinner; but we,
not liking the rooms given us at our hotel, ‘The Swan,’ although
undoubtedly they did for us the best they could, and as we could not get
into the Schweizerhof at all, the best hotel in the place, have decided to
leave this afternoon. Our last act of sight-seeing was the old covered bridge,
in which there are over a hundred pictures, scenes of Switzerland’s history
and pictures of saints, although some of them did not look very saintly.
There are four bridges across the river,—two modern, and the other two
very ancient and curious.
Went to Vitzman by boat, then took front seats on a platform car to
ascend the Rigi. Only one car is sent up at a time, and that is driven by
steam power. The railway seems to be the same as any narrow-gauge road,
but between the outside rails are two other rails quite near each other, in
which a cogwheel, which is under the engine, runs or works. We ascend
slowly, leaving the lake and the towns far below us, and beyond and above
us are the mountain peaks. We go through a tunnel and across a deep
yawning ravine on an iron bridge; and the scenery is beautiful all around us,
which we can fully enjoy at our ease, as there are no dangerous places and
no frisky mules to distract one’s attention. We pass many tourists, but the
path must appear almost endless to them, for it seems to us, even at our
speed, that the top of the mountain grows farther away. But at last we reach
our hotel, the Rigi Kulm, above the clouds. Would we could always rise
above them so delightfully! It was very cold, so we put on all the wraps we
had, and started out for views from the Rigi. Just imagine yourself on the
very top of this high mountain, which juts up towards the heavens like a
‘popover’ in a hot oven. In the valley below we can count eight lakes, and
the many towns so far below us look like the little wooden villages made of
blocks for children to play with. Looking beyond in all directions, we see
mountains towering up to the sky—Rocky Pilatus, the snow-clad range of
the Bernese Alps, and the green Rigi group close about us. We see the
rugged heights of the Silberhorn, the three peaks of the Wetterhorn, and,
grandest of all, the Finsteraarhorn. What a personal interest we have in
these peaks of Switzerland as soon as we know them.
The mountain was covered with travellers, like ourselves, enjoying the
views and anticipating a gorgeous sunset, as there was scarcely a cloud to
be seen. I sat on the grass near the edge of the mountain wondering at the
extent of this magnificent panorama, when I felt a weight on my shoulder;
turning quickly a cow raised her head from the resting place she had chosen
and looked at me in a way that said, ‘Why did you move?’ A little later we
met Mr. W., of New York, and his handsome German doctor, who added
greatly to our pleasure during the rest of our stay here. Seeing a boy with
some freshly picked wild flowers, and an edelweiss among them, I asked
where he found it, and wandered off in the direction indicated, anxious to
pick for myself one of these blossoms. We had bought them fresh, we had
bought them dried, and the semblance of them in all sorts of ornaments, but
not one had I seen growing. I clambered down the steep and rocky path, and
was rewarded after a long search by finding two of these flowers which the
Swiss love so well, and I victoriously exhibited them to my friends as I met
them coming in search of me. We grouped ourselves on a high platform,
built on the summit, which was already well crowded, to see the sun go
down. But why do we get up here? we were high enough before. Because it
is the thing to do, and here is glass of every color to look through. But I
only wish to see it all in its natural colors. How the wind blows, and how
cold it is! There goes the Doctor’s hat. No use to try to recover it; it is
dashing on to see where the sun goes to. Put this wrap over your head,
Doctor.
Look, look! The great ball of fire was sinking to the edge of the horizon,
which was streaked gorgeously with crimson and gold. Golden tints fell far
and near, upon valley, lakes, and mountains, and the white robes of the
snow-clad peaks, were changed to rose. All voices were hushed, for a
spectacle so sublime awakened in every one emotions too deep for words.
Lower and lower, until only a great gold shield remained, and soon all light
was gone, and the shadows covered us. ‘These are Thy works also, O God,
for Thou didst make the heavens and the earth.’
Stiff with cold, we hurried to our hotel, whose lights twinkled cheerfully
for us in the distance, and a good dinner, with warm drinks, soon thawed us
into a comfortable condition. After dinner we tried to find a room heated
sufficiently for us to remain in and not freeze, but there was none. Large,
handsome parlors and corridors, but all as cold as ice-caves. The proprietors
of this house make a great mistake in not providing fires for the comfort of
their guests; and for the very lack of this necessity to one’s health, we
decided to leave as early as possible in the morning. After a brisk
promenade through the hall with our friends, we bade them good-night,
promising to rise at the sound of the alpine horn and meet them in the
parlor, to go out and see the rising of the sun, which they assured us would
be far more wonderful than its setting. ‘Now you will be sure to be on
hand,’ said Mr. W. ‘I would not have you miss it for anything. I have a fur
coat here which I will unpack to put about you; you will have to rise at
three o’clock, you know.’ ‘O yes, I will surely be ready. We have come far
to see the sun rise on the Rigi, and I must not miss it. Good-night,’ and off
we go to our room at the very top of the house. Just hear the wind roar.
Our chamber was cold, our chambermaid colder, and upon our asking
her for more bed covering she undoubtedly reached the freezing-point
somewhere, for she disappeared and we saw her not again. After prolonged
and vigorous ringings of our bell, a petrified-looking boy appeared, but he
manifested some signs of life as our money touched his palm, and we
succeeded in coaxing him to bring us an extra feather bed. That bed was
warm, and as our own was cold and clammy, I felt pretty sure the boy gave
us his own bed. But I was grateful, and he was satisfied with the bargain.
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