LAKE HENDERSON A JULY DAY A SUNSET, AND EVENING 



REVERIE. 



My Dear H : 



I am just recovering from the exhaustion of the 

 last few days' tramping, and, quiet and renovat- 

 ed, enjoy everything around me. On the banks of 

 Lake Henderson — a charming sheet of water — 

 I have been reclining for hours, drinking in the 

 fresh breeze at every inspiration. It is a summer 

 afternoon, and I know by the atmosphere that 

 veils these mountain tops, and the force of the sun 

 when I step out of the shade, that it is a hot 

 July day. At this very moment, while I am 

 stretched at my ease, watching the still lake, 

 and those two deer that for the last hour have 



