62 LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 



will, was induced to " sit up like a gentle- 

 man," while I boasted modestly of another 

 spaniel, Antony by name, who could do 

 that and plenty of tricks beside, — a perfect 

 wonder of a dog, in short. Thus happily 

 launched, we went on to discuss the climate 

 of Tennessee (whatever may be the soul of 

 talk, the weather supplies it with members 

 and a bodily substance) and the charms of 

 Lookout Mountain. She lived there the 

 year round, she said (most of the cottagers 

 make the place a summer resort only), and 

 always found it pleasant. In winter it 

 was n't so cold there as down below ; at any 

 rate, it did n't feel so cold, — which is the 

 main thing, of course. Sometimes when she 

 went to the city, it seemed as if she should 

 freeze, although she had n't thought of its 

 being cold before she left home. It is one 

 form of patriotism, I suppose, — parochial 

 patriotism, perhaps we may call it, — that 

 makes us stand up pretty stoutly for our 

 own dwelling-place before strangers, how- 

 ever we may grumble against it among our- 

 selves. In the present instance, however, 

 no such qualifying explanation seemed neces- 

 sary. In general, I was quite prepared to 



