FIVE DAYS ON MOUNT MANSFIELD. 93 



home-felt strain is this of " Whistling Jack," 

 a mountain bird, well used to mountain 

 weather, and just now too happy to forego 

 his music, no matter how the storm might 

 rage. I myself had been in a cloud often 

 enough to feel no great degree of discomfort 

 or lowness of spirits. I had not decided to 

 spend the precious hours of a brief vacation 

 upon a mountain-top without taking into 

 account the additional risk of unfavorable 

 weather in such a place. Let the clouds do 

 their worst ; I could be patient and wait for 

 the sun. But this whistling philosopher out- 

 side spoke of something better than patience, 

 and I thanked him for the timely word. 



Toward noon of the next day the rain 

 ceased, the cloud vanished, and I made haste 

 to clamber up the rocky peak the Nose, 

 so called at the base of which the hotel is 

 situated. Yes, there stretched Lake Cham- 

 plain, visible for almost its entire length, 

 and beyond it loomed the Adirondacks. I 

 was glad I had come. / could sing now. 

 It does a man good to look afar off. 



Even before the fog lifted I had discov- 

 ered, to my no small gratification, that the 

 evergreens immediately about the house were 



