THE WHITE HILLS. g^ 



enoes. I am inclined to think that I just sat and 

 smoked, and listened to the stillness about me ; 

 and that my companion of these glories was alike 

 silent and thoughtful. 



If I could only write how self-satisfied I feel at 

 such times, at peace with all the world, and for- 

 getful of all its rough, hard edges ! but it is no use 

 attempting it : you have appreciated the feeling, of 

 course you have ; if not, you would have laid aside 

 this book long before you came to this ; for, if you 

 are not such a lover of nature, you can never have 

 journeyed with us thus far. 



Then the darkness came, a darkness that you 

 could almost feel, very different from that of the 

 half-lighted city or the unlighted village ; a dreamy 

 darkness, not so unlike but what we knew that it 

 meant, to tired mortals, bed-time. We took the 

 hint, and retired, hoping the clouds would dispel, 

 the morrow be fair, and our ascent of the mountain 

 a favorable one ; and it was. 



All mountain parties are merry ones ; and it does 

 not fake long for the front seat to get acquainted 

 with the rear, or all to become on free-and-easy 

 terms with the driver. True, the romance is some- 

 what taken away, as we go up by carriage-road 

 instead of the old bridle-path ; but there's lots of 

 fun left, nevertheless. The chances are, you will 



