OH, SHOOT! 



gerated attempt at praise, without any hys- 

 terical effort to eulogize, I may say that it is 

 some chasm, and we thought well of it. As 

 chasms go, it's a bear. Personally, I don't 

 like chasms they're hollow and they're un- 

 safe. In looking at a landscape, I prefer to 

 see space occupied by tangible scenery of some 

 sort; here was an appalling nothingness, a 

 complete minus of everything except air, and 

 one had to look too far down, too far across, 

 to see anything. Nor do I wish to appear 

 hypercritical, a fault common to so many New 

 Yorkers, but honesty compels me to say there 

 is nothing in the least homelike or cozy about 

 the Grand Canon, and it is utterly devoid of 

 even the simplest comforts. To anyone ac- 

 customed to mountains that stick up, there is 

 something odd, something distressingly un- 

 usual, about looking down upon a whole system 

 of towering peaks. Those mountains you see 

 below your feet are good sizable mountains 

 and nothing to be ashamed of in fact, we'd 

 be proud to claim them in the East, just to 

 show up some of our old favorites but Ari- 

 zona hides them away in a hole! And cliffs! 

 You can look in every direction and see any 

 number of fine, imposing cliffs wasted. It is 



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