IN THE OPEN 



and we find them dressed in plain brown home- 

 spun. Never do we as much as touch the hem of 

 that royal mantle. 



A symbol of the unchangeable, they are none 

 the less marvelously sensitive to the play of light, 

 and thus appear to vary with the conditions of the 

 atmosphere. There are days when they seem to 

 approach, and times again when they recede and 

 become distant and nebulous. This magic-play 

 of light proceeded from their birth, and goes 

 on forever, the unceasing illusion, the beautiful 

 witchery. 



From the violet shadows of their bases they 

 rise through a stratum of ethereal blue to emerge 

 glistening white. Now they are savage and defiant 

 in their somber shadows, ramparts and battlements ; 

 again, opalescent, lying like cumulous clouds on 

 the horizon. What a vast bulk is yonder spur, 

 massy and ponderous in this light, but tomorrow 

 it may appear immaterial as thistle-down and to 

 hang suspended in the ambient air. In the morning 

 the crags and cliffs stand out naked and dazzling 

 on the great rock mass of the peak; yet before 

 night every detail may be obliterated and the 

 mountain appear a lowering mass, dull and grim. 



