A DAY IN FRANCONIA 87 



the Twins, with the tips of Washington, Jef- 

 ferson, and Adams. Then, when the second 

 of the houses is passed, the prospect narrows 

 again. An extremely pretty wood of tall, 

 straight trees, many fine poplars among them 

 (and now they are all talking), is close at 

 my side. The sunlight favors me, falling 

 squarely on the shapely, light-colored trunks 

 (some of the poplars are almost as white as 

 the birches), and filling the whole place with 

 splendor. I go on, absorbed in the lovely 

 spectacle, and behold, it is as if a veil were 

 suddenly removed. The wood is gone, and 

 the horizon is full of mountain-tops. I have 

 come to the last of the farms, and in another 

 minute or two am at the door. 



There is nobody at home, to my regret, and 

 I sit down upon the doorstep. Moosilauke, 

 Kinsman, Cannon, Lafayette, Haystack, the 

 Twins, Washington, Clay, Jefferson, Adams, 

 and Madison these are enough, though 

 there are others, too, if a man were trying to 

 make a story. All are clear of clouds, and, 

 like the trees of the wood, have the western 

 light full on them. Even without the help 

 of a glass I see a train ascending Mt. Wash- 



