Summary

John Bell Bouton Roundabout to Moscow: An Epicurean Journey

The desolation, mile after mile, is oppressive to behold. One seeks relief by looking back over the blue Mediterranean and the reddish-white cities of the plain. Or else he looks ahead and up to Vesuvius, whose terrible majesty now begins to appear. I now see that where the sea of lava ends the ashes begin. The vapor, which seemed to curl so peacefully and thinly, from the standpoint of Naples, is mounting to the sky in a great volume, and whirling as if in a cyclone. One imagines a roar as that hot steam rushes from the crater. He sees specks tossed into the air.
Source: Gutenberg

John Bell Bouton Roundabout to Moscow: An Epicurean Journey

Comparing Stockholm with Boston, one would not be so far out of the way. There are resemblances in the hilly grounds on which the two cities stand, in the central dome [Pg 343] and the tall spires, in the crooked and converging streets, the stone buildings, the trimness and cleanliness of everything, the all-pervading air of prosperity. The American who happens to know Boston feels at home here at once. Even when he has just arrived from Moscow, and misses colors in the roofs of Stockholm, he is soon somewhat consoled by the many-colored native dresses which he meets at every turn.
Source: Gutenberg

John Bell Bouton Roundabout to Moscow: An Epicurean Journey

The Silberhorn is the showiest ornament of that most bewitching of mountains. It is an acute pyramid, and has a surface like frosted silver. It seems so dead and cold that one does not suspect its latent capacity for motion and sound. Yet it is from this statuesque spur that some of the most terrible avalanches of the Jungfrau are let loose. The sides are so steep that the ice and snow are always about to slide off, and, when the afternoon sun shines straight and hot upon them, the watcher for avalanches is never disappointed.
Source: Gutenberg

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