GLEN CO E 21 



must cross and recross the winding streamlet, 

 stepping from one to another of the bowlders that 

 lie thick in the bottom, or balancing on an inse- 

 cure log, or sometimes jumping and dextrously 

 pulling ourselves up by the tough bushes. When 

 we miss our jump, or a stone turns, we slip in the 

 wet clay; but we are dressed to meet all emergen- 

 cies and we are extricated with both our feelings 

 and our skins unhurt. 



The big boy is in his element, leaping back and 

 forth, making side excursions of discovery up the 

 steep tributary rills, beating his way through the 

 bare hazel and sumach thickets and now and 

 then shinning up a tree, just because he can, and 

 because nothing else will make quite so clear his 

 masculine superiority. 



Occasionally a fence crosses the ravine. Nota- 

 ble fences they are, desperate combinations of 

 posts and boards with brush and barbed wire, 

 but wholly unavailing ; for any one hardy enough 

 to brave the hazards of the ravine bottom could 

 never be stopped by a fence. We go under or 

 over or through, according to our agility and our 

 stature. Moreover, why should we be stopped, 

 the o. m. would like to know? Ability to enjoy 

 ought to count for as much as a fee-simple in 

 giving title to a landscape. One never meets 



