MOUNTAIN-TOP AND VALLEY 



NOTHING heightens appreciation like a contrast. 

 After a week at the summit of Mount Washing- 

 ton, where we lived in the clouds and above 

 them, in a world above the world, we returned 

 to the lowlands. The afternoon was sultry, and 

 before the descent was half accomplished by 

 the train we wished ourselves back again on 

 the heights. How can men live in such an at- 

 mosphere, we asked each other ; so stifling, so 

 depressing, so wanting in all the elements of vi- 

 tality. Our condition seemed like that of fishes 

 out of water, and we began to think of angling 

 as a cruel sport. It grieved us to see the trees 

 growing taller. Even the laughing young Am- 

 monoosuc was looked upon with indifference. " I 

 wish I were back," said one ; and the other re- 

 sponded, " So do I." 



At Fabyan's the crowd surged about us like a 

 sea. Baggage must be found and checked, our 

 train was waiting, and the baggage-master, true 

 railway "official" that he was, was not to be 

 hastened. His steps were all taken by rule, and 

 every movement of his hands was set to slow 



