PREFACE xi 



It matters not at what hour one .i;oes to ilie mountains, 

 whether in the amethyst dawn, when the i;-olclen <^^ates of sun- 

 rise fall ajar and the first faint rustle of the leaves stirs the 

 dreaming world to consciousness, dispersin<^ mists and dew; 

 in the brilliant noontide, when life marches on with all her 

 banners unfurled, and every plant is buddin<^^ and blowin*; as 

 the sap runs freely and the sun's effulgent rays turn every- 

 thing to glory ; or in the amber evening, when purj)le shadows 

 steal with phantom feet from cliff to cliff, and down in the 

 depths of the forest the gentle dusk drops tears that spangle 

 leaf and bloom, as God lights the star-lamps of His high 

 heaven and puts out the day. 



Even when we listen to the rhythm of the rain all is beau- 

 tiful, for the flowers that greeted the dawn with opal hearts 

 wide-blown, that at noontide were found with 



" Each affluent petal outstretched and uncurled 

 To the glory and gladness and shine of tlie world. " 



and that at evening offered up sweetest fragrance in their 

 chalice-cups, are given a new joy and beauty b}- the cool clear 

 show^ers from above. 



"The paths, the woods, the heavens, tlie hills, 

 Are not a world today, 

 But just a place God made for us 

 In which to play." 



So we wander in search of the mountain wild tlowers. 

 following the trails that lead to the ali)ine meadows, listening 

 to the bird-songs as w^e pass, wrapt in the peace of the i)erfect 

 hills, while all about us the infinite beauty of things created, 

 the magic of the summer skies, the strength of the tar-Hung 

 bastions, the purity of the eternal snows, and the glory ot the 

 flowers that bloom above the clouds bid us remend)er I hat 

 we are walking 



" In the Freedom of the (".ardcn Wild " 

 with 



" God of the open Air." 



