1.The life of the peasants in the higher and moreremote regionsof the Alps has remained unchangedfor centuries.Far away from cities and railways，the mountain peasant lives as his ancestors did，and likely in the very house where his great-grandfather was born.
2.The house is probably a large unpainted two-storied building made of square pine logs，with the ends projecting at the corners，and sometimes carved into pretty shapes.It has little windows，generally filled with flowers.The roof is made of large boards，and is kept in its place by the help of poles and stones.
3.The village of Obstalden consists of a hundred such houses，standing on the high terrace of a mountain slope above the Wallen See，one of the most delightful little lakes in Switzerland.The lake is seventeen miles long，and two or three miles wide.It is clear as crystal，five hundred feet deep，and closed in by a nearlyperpendicularwall of rocks two thousand feet high.
At a little distance are ridges and peaks nine thousandfeet above sea-level，with white glaciers waterfalls.
4.The first and most pleasant recollection that one has of the village，after the wonderful scenery，is the perfectsimplicity of the people，and the familiargreeting ofthe stranger that comes from every lip.Every one seems to know him，every one speaks to him as a friend.
5.It seems absurd to call the hundred houses scattered on the green slope a town.The grass grows everywhere，quite up to the door-steps.There is no street in the place，except the white，well-paved post-road that goes by，not through，the village.Little，stony goat-paths lead up to and around the houses，and there is hardly a fence to be seen in the place.
6.But it is a town.There is the little stone church，with the white steeple and the big-faced clock outside，and the stone floors and the plain wooden benches within.There，on the south end of the church，ispainted in great letters and figures the big sun-dial ，used long before the village had a clock.Behind the little stone church is the village church-yard.Near by，in the old，old school-house，there are the happy children and their teacher，who is also the village pastor.
7.The big brown houses are scattered over the sloping meadow，each of them large enough for two or three families.Every house is as clear as any one could wish.They are comfortable enough，though very simply furnished.Rude benches take the place of chairs；there are no carpets on the floor，few pictures on the wall，and little of the luxurythat is common in the homesof most farmers in our country.
8.In almost every peasant‘s house stands an old-fashioned loom.It occupies the best corner of thebest room.It is of more importance than anything else in the house，for by it is earned a great part of the income of the family.Silk cloth is woven for the greatexportersat Zürich，and the women are glad to earnone or two shillings a day，by weaving from dawnevening twilight.
9.While the women are weaving，the men cut grass and wood，cultivate a few potatoes，look after their little dairies，and prepare for the winter.Those of the women who are not engaged at the loom help the men out of doors.Cheese of goats’milk is made here in abundance.
10.It is an interesting sight to see the village goat-herd，usuallya young man，startoff e ver y mor ning，driving all the goats ofthe village to the grass on the higher mountain slopes.His is a strange life：all the long summer day he is alone with his goats among the mountains.Evening twilight sees him at the headof his flock，winding his way down to the village.A great wreath of pink Alpine roses is twined about his hat；perhaps another rose-wreath is slung over his shoulders.Sometimes he sings one of his Alpine songs，sometimes he plays on a rude flute，as the goats in a long line follow him down to the group of stalls called “the village of the goats.”
11.The goat village consists of scores of little，low，covered pens，lined with forest leaves，and as snug as canbe.Every goat knows its own stall，and promptlyentersit.-“It is a poor，foolish goat，”says the herdsman，“that does not know its own milking-place.”The cheese which is made from the goat‘s milk is sent to the cities，and a large part of it is exported to other lands.
12.One thing always to be found in a Swiss home is a great stove of white china or earthenware，about seven feet high.It looks very cold in spite of the wood fire inside，for it is generally pure white.In shape it is either round or square.Sometimes tiny steps lead to the top，where a curtain is hung so as to make a warm little room about six feet square.In this room the children go to dress on cold mornings.
13.It has been said that the people of these Alpine villages are too poor and ignorant to love and enjoythe grand scenes about them.That is quite a mistake.Poor，in a sense，they are；but if，with their little herds，their green meadows，and their simple lives，they are content，then are they also rich.The Alpine peasant loves the mountains about him；and more than one lone wanderer from the Alps to foreign lands has been known to die of heartache，longing for the scenes of his childhood.
I
1.The little village of Saxenhausen in Germany wasin commotion.A proclamationhad just been sentout offering free land to all Germans who would settle in the new British colony of Nova Scotia.Many of the villagers were eager to go，none more so than Conrad Ludovic，a poor sick lad who earned a bare living by carving little wooden figures.
2.Ulrica was going-Ulrica the orphan girl towhom he had been betrothedfor six years.She wasgoing with her uncle.Could Conrad but save enough money for the passage，he would go too；and in the new country they would be married，and would live in comfort and happiness.All day long，and far into the night，Conrad sat at his bench carving；but the work was too hard for his strength，and shortly before the time of sailing he was laid low with sickness.
3.It was then that Ulrica made up her mind to take the land for which Conrad had applied.In a few yearsshe could have the house built and the land tilled，andwith what she and Conrad together could earn，enough would soon be raised to pay for his passage to Nova Scotia.
4.The voyage was over，and all were safely landed atHalifax，and taken to the siteof the new settlement.
A discouraging site it was.Nothing could be seen but forest.Not a tree had been felled；the whole of the coast was rocky and wild.Soon the colonists set to work bravely to clear the land and to put up houses.Ulrica’s land was at a little distance from the chief settlement，in a lonely spot at the edge of the forest.Her house was finished long before any of the others；for all the settlers liked the brave girl，and helped her as well as they could.In the same way her land was the firstcleared，and a promising crop of flaxbarley soon grew upon it.
5.Ulrica had worked hard，but she had been unable to raise enough money to pay for Conrad‘s passage，and he was still in Germany.As she sat on her cottage door-step one afternoon and thought it all over，her brave heart was heavy within her.
A sharp “Hallo！”broke in upon her meditation ，and turning quickly she saw a man approaching from the forest with an axe on his shoulder.She recognized him as Carl Stanford，who had come out in her ship，but had disappeared soon after landing.He asked her for food，and she led him into the little kitchen.
6.“Get me some food as quickly as possible，”said Carl，seating himself wearily，“for I must be off to the settlement；I have news to tell.”And then he told how the old French settlers had been driven from Grand Préby the English soldiers.“The buildings and barns wereburned to the ground，”he said.“Not one is standing；but the cattle and horses and sheep are still feeding there by thousands.That is why I have come here.If I can raise a party of men，we can bring back hundreds of the cattle.Unless we make haste，the English will have them；but there is time yet.Only last night I left them feeding in the meadows.”
7.“Only last night，”repeated Ulrica.“How did you get here？”The man glanced down at his roughly-shod feet.“They brought me，”he said.“But the mountains？They say there are mountains between us and the French country.”“Mountains have been climbed，”said the man.“And the rivers，and the thick forest？”said thegirl.“All rivers do not cross the track，and paths have been marked through the deepest forests.With this axe I cut plenty of marks on the trees.”
8.When Carl had gone，Ulrica went out for a piece of rope.Returning to the kitchen，she coiled it up closely and tied it in a handkerchief，along with a loaf of barley bread.With this bundle in her hand，she stepped out into the moonlight，and plunged into the dark woods.She was bound for the meadows of Grand Pré，to bring back a cow to sell for Conrad’s passage-money.