The Lion itself is worth seeing, both for itself and for the memories it calls up of the heroic courage of those Swiss guards of Louis XVI, who died defending the Tuileries, August 10, 1792. But there are certain parts of Lucerne where the ordinary traveler seldom goes, and yet which are eminently worthy of a visit. The older part of the city with its narrow, quaint houses and its market-places, gives one still a good idea of the life of a medieval city. The river Reuss, flows with the rapidity of an arrow from the lake, and is spanned by seven bridges, two of which date from the middle ages, the Kapell-Brücke, and the Spreuer Brücke. Both of these bridges cross the Reuss obliquely, both are roofed in, and both are adorned with paintings, which if not of the highest artistic value, are yet interesting enough to look at. In the Kapell-Brücke, which was built in 1333, are painted scenes from Swiss history, and from the lives of the patron saints of Lucerne, St. Ledger and St. Maurice. The Water Tower near this bridge was once believed to be Another interesting relic of medieval times is the wall that surrounds the city, with its many watch-towers; and a very pleasant place of a summer evening, when one is tired of sight-seeing, is the Hofkirche or Church of St. Leodogar, which is said to date from the eighth century. Its two slender towers give it a graceful appearance. It is worth while attending the organ recitals, which are given every week day in summer, from six-thirty to seven-thirty p. m., the great attraction being the realistic imitation of the gradual oncoming of a thunder storm, storm, the roaring of the winds, the crash of thunder, and the pattering of rain on the roof. I have already said that Lucerne is one of the most popular centers of Swiss travel. All summer long the streets are crowded, omnibuses and carriages rushing to and from the trains, tourists promenading along the Schweizerhof Quay, sauntering through the streets, gazing into the shopwindows, bands of music playing, while all around the unequaled setting of the city, the blue waters of the lake, with the steamers going and coming, the rowboats moving here and there, the far-away whistle of the Pilatus railroad, all gives one the feeling of a holiday festival. Some years ago, however, I had an opportunity of seeing the striking difference between the life of the town in summer and that in winter. I was coming from the north on my way to Italy, and stopped over night at one of the large hotels, |