30 LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 



looked uncommonly inviting, rough and de- 

 serted, with wild crags above and old forest 

 below ; and without a second thought I took 

 it, idling downward as slowly as possible, 

 minding the birds and plants, or sitting for 

 a while, as one shady stone after another 

 offered coolness and a seat, to enjoy the 

 silence and the prospect. Be as lazy as I 

 could, however, the road soon gave signs of 

 coming to an end ; for Lookout Mountain, 

 although it covers much territory and pre- 

 sents a mountainous front, is of a very mod- 

 est elevation. And at the end of the way 

 there was no sylvan retreat, but a village ; 

 yes, the same dusty little suburb that I had 

 passed, and looked away from, on my way 

 up. That was St. Elmo ! and, with my 

 luncheon still in my pocket, I boarded the 

 first car for the city. One consolation re- 

 mained : I had lived a pleasant hour, and 

 the mountain road had made three additions 

 to my local ornithology, a magnolia war- 

 bler, a Blackburnian warbler, and a hairy 

 woodpecker. 



There was nothing for it but to laugh at 

 myself, and try again ; but it was almost a 

 week before I found the opportunity. Then 



