And when I waked up again it was sunny, it was morning on the hill
opposite, though the river deep below ran in shadow.
The tramps and beggars were all gone: they must be cleared out by seven
o'clock in the morning. So I had the inn to myself, I, and the landlady,
and the serving-woman. Everywhere was very clean, full of the German
morning energy and brightness, which is so different from the Latin
morning. The Italians are dead and torpid first thing, the Germans are
energetic and cheerful.
It was cheerful in the sunny morning, looking down on the swift river,
the covered, picturesque bridge, the bank and the hill opposite. Then
down the curving road of the facing hill the Swiss cavalry came riding,
men in blue uniforms. I went out to watch them. They came thundering
romantically through the dark cavern of the roofed-in bridge, and they
dismounted at the entrance to the village. There was a fresh
morning-cheerful newness everywhere, in the arrival of the troops, in
the welcome of the villagers.
The Swiss do not look very military, neither in accoutrement nor
bearing. This little squad of cavalry seemed more like a party of common
men riding out in some business of their own than like an army.
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