A Day at Cliff. 



the restfulness of the leafy shade. And this noise, familiar but 

 just now unwelcome, the clatter of city traffic is irritating. 

 Where is the breezy and beautiful murmur of tree-tops? The 

 sound of tinkling waters, and the foam-crested rock? Uncon- 

 sciously we feel the balance which becomes so habitual when 

 carefully stepping on the wet rocks of the little mountain 

 stream when casting the fly. Ah ! it has come back to us 

 that longing for the tumbling waters and towering mountains 

 where we have enjoyed so many happy days. And more than 

 ever we miss the lullaby of rippling waters which soothed us 

 to sleep at night and met us at daybreak with cool kisses as 

 we cast our fly in the pool below the falls. 



What recollections these thoughts of mornings in the 

 mountains bring us ! The soft breeze, laden with the odor of 

 pine and balsam, steals through our open window. The lazy 

 restfulness of doing nothing, if nothing it pleases us to do, or 

 the anxiety for action when action has been decided upon ; the 

 healthy, vigorous appetite waiting to be satisfied. Where do 

 we find such mornings except in the mountains? And the 

 evenings the silent, restful evenings ; the body tired, but the 

 mind invigorated by the long tramp over mountains or strenu- 

 ous work of trouting and photographing. And last, but by no 

 means least, those camp fires with our party gathered around 

 within a circle of light talking over the experiences of the 

 day, singing songs and telling stories. Who that has sat and 

 listened to good stories while watching the climbing flames 

 and smoke of a camp fire will ever forget it? Thoughts that 

 are impossible elsewhere come then. You are carried away and 

 become a part of the story that is being told. But we are in the 

 city, with its noise and bustle ! Let us get out of it, and be 

 off for the mountains for two weeks' sweet communion with 

 nature. 



We had been planning this trip for some time the doctor, 

 the attorney and myself and, through correspondence with 

 friends at Cliff, in the South Platte Canyon, had arranged for 

 accommodations for our party of six, composed of the doctor, 



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