16 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



with its handle projecting in front of him and 

 his feet resting lightly upon the crust. 



Momus was the god of the day, and everybody 

 laughed at everybody else until everybody else 

 got a chance to laugh at him. The whole popu- 

 lation made for the meadow on the hillside, on 

 the undulating surface of which could be found 

 every degree of inclination, from a gentle decline 

 that would fail to feaze the most timid, to a long, 

 sharp pitch, the swift descent of which would 

 create friction sufficient to melt the milk-pan be- 

 neath the adventurous woman who braved it. 



Already I was interested in the wild life of the 

 great outdoors. I must have been ten years old 

 when I began my life as a trapper. Before that 

 I used to wander in the woods back of my home 

 in a little village of Massachusetts. I remember 

 my fearsome steps through the dark recesses be- 

 neath the heavy foliage of the great close-grow- 

 ing pines. I walked slowly, shivering in antici- 

 pation of what I was seeking — the loud whir of 

 the startled partridge, as the ruffed grouse was 

 called. Soon I was following the paths of the 



