for a time and watched an eagle soaring around 

 up in the blue sky. I think Harriet must have 

 recalled a suggestion which I made at timber-line, 

 for without moving she suddenly remarked, " Mr. 

 Mills, my feet are so cold that I can't tell whether 

 my toes are wiggling or not." 



Five hours after starting, Harriet stepped upon 

 the top, the youngest climber to scale Long's Peak. 

 The top is fourteen thousand two hundred and 

 fifty-nine feet above the sea, is almost level, and, 

 though rough, is roomy enough for a baseball 

 game. Of course if the ball went over the edge, 

 it would tumble a mile or so before stopping. 

 With the top so large, you will realize that the 

 base measures miles across. The upper three 

 thousand feet of the peak is but a gigantic mass, 

 almost destitute of soil or vegetation. Some of 

 the rocks are flecked and spotted with lichens, 

 and a few patches of moss and straggling, beauti- 

 ful alpine flowers can be found during August. 

 There is but little chance for snow to lodge, and 

 for nearly three thousand feet the peak rises a 

 bald, broken, impressive stone tower. 



While Harriet and I were eating luncheon, a 

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