and the big blue sky for a roof, than sit- 
ting ina 10 by 12 whitewashed bedroom 
of the summer hotel variety, with the 
tin roof to keep out what air might be 
passing. A possible mosquito or gnat 
in the mountains is no more irritating 
than the objectionable personality that 
is sure to be forced upon you every 
hour at the summer hotel. The usual 
walk, the usual drive, the usual hop, 
the usual novel, the usual scandal,— 
in a word, the continual consciousness 
of self as related to dress, to manners, 
to position, which the gregarious living 
of a hotel enforces—are all right enough 
once in a while; but do you not get 
enough of such life in the winter to last 
for all the year ? 
Is one never to forget that it is not 
proper to wear gold beads with crape ? 
Understand, I am not to be set down 
AN 
“ico7iamozma Sz 
