A TRAMP ABROAD By Mark Twain

after all. This was an immense relief; it lifted the weight

of two such mountains from my breast. I immediately

had the news disseminated and the map was exhibited.

The effect was wonderful. As soon as the men saw with

their own eyes that they knew where they were, and that it

was only the summit that was lost and not themselves,

they cheered up instantly and said with one accord,

let the summit take care of itself.

Our distresses being at an end, I now determined to rest

the men in camp and give the scientific department of the

Expedition a chance. First, I made a barometric observation,

to get our altitude, but I could not perceive that there

was any result. I knew, by my scientific reading,

that either thermometers or barometers ought to be boiled,

to make them accurate; I did not know which it was,

so I boiled them both. There was still no result;

so I examined these instruments and discovered that they

possessed radical blemishes: the barometer had no hand

but the brass pointer and the ball of the thermometer was

stuffed with tin-foil. I might have boiled those things

to rags, and never found out anything.

I hunted up another barometer; it was new and perfect.

I boiled it half an hour in a pot of bean soup which

the cooks were making. The result was unexpected: the

instrument was not affecting at all, but there was such

a strong barometer taste to the soup that the head cook,

who was a most conscientious person, changed its name

in the bill of fare. The dish was so greatly liked by all,

that I ordered the cook to have barometer soup every day.

It was believed that the barometer might eventually

be injured, but I did not care for that. I had demonstrated

to my satisfaction that it could not tell how high

a mountain was, therefore I had no real use for it.

Changes in the weather I could take care of without it;

I did not wish to know when the weather was going to be good,

what I wanted to know was when it was going to be bad,

and this I could find out from Harris’s corns. Harris had

had his corns tested and regulated at the government

observatory in Heidelberg, and one could depend upon them

with confidence. So I transferred the new barometer to

the cooking department, to be used for the official mess.

It was found that even a pretty fair article of soup could

be made from the defective barometer; so I allowed that one

to be transferred to the subordinate mess.

I next boiled the thermometer, and got a most excellent result;

the mercury went up to about 200 degrees Fahrenheit.

In the opinion of the other scientists of the Expedition,

this seemed to indicate that we had attained the extraordinary

altitude of two hundred thousand feet above sea-level.

Science places the line of eternal snow at about ten thousand

feet above sea-level. There was no snow where we were,

consequently it was proven that the eternal snow-line

ceases somewhere above the ten-thousand-foot level and

does not begin any more. This was an interesting fact,

and one which had not been observed by any observer before.

It was as valuable as interesting, too, since it would open

up the deserted summits of the highest Alps to population

and agriculture. It was a proud thing to be where we were,

yet it caused us a pang to reflect that but for that ram we

might just as well been two hundred thousand feet higher.

The success of my last experiment induced me to try an

experiment with my photographic apparatus. I got it out,

and boiled one of my cameras, but the thing was a failure;

it made the wood swell up and burst, and I could not see

that the lenses were any better than they were before.

I now concluded to boil a guide. It might improve him,

it could not impair his usefulness. But I was not

allowed to proceed. Guides have no feeling for science,

and this one would not consent to be made uncomfortable