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 {|width="200" he notices a sullen, distant, continuous roar in his ears, which is like what he would experience if he had sea shells pressed against them—he cannot account for it; he is drowsy and absent minded; there is no tenacity to his mind, he cannot keep hold of a thought and follow it out; if he sits down to write, his vocabulary is empty, no suitable words will come, he forgets what he started to do, and remains there, pen in hand, head tilted up, eyes closed, listening painfully to the muffled roar of a distant train in his ears; in his soundest sleep, the strain continues, he goes on listening, always listening, intently, anxiously, and wakes at last, harrassed, irritable, unrefreshed. He cannot manage to account for these things. Day after day he feels as if he had spent his nights in a sleeping car. It actually takes him weeks to find out that it is those persecuting torrents that have been making all the mischief. It is time for him to get out of Switzerland, then, for as soon as he has discovered the cause, the misery is magnified several fold. The roar of the torrent is maddening, then, for his
 * A Tramp Abroad 0529h.jpg
 * MUSIC OF SWITZERLAND.
 * }
 * }