My First Summer 



tures of air, it glides quietly to the verge 

 of the Vernal precipice in a broad sheet 

 and makes its new display in the Vernal 

 Fall ; then more rapids and rock tossings 

 down the canon, shaded by live oak, Doug- 

 las spruce, fir, maple, and dogwood. It re- 

 ceives the Illilouette tributary, and makes 

 a long sweep out into the level, sun-filled 

 valley to join the other streams which, 

 like itself, have danced and sung their way 

 down from snowy heights to form the 

 main Merced, the river of Mercy. But 

 of this there is no end, and life, when one 

 thinks of it, is so short. Never mind, one 

 day in the midst of these divine glories is 

 well worth living and toiling and starving 

 for. 



Before parting with Professor Butler he 

 gave me a book, and I gave him one of 

 my pencil sketches for his little son Henry, 

 who is a favorite of mine. He used to make 

 many visits to my room when I was a 

 student. Never shall I forget his patriotic 

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