IN THE CATSKILLS 



THE SNOW-WALKERS 



HE who marvels at the beauty of the world in 

 summer will find equal cause for wonder and 

 admiration in winter. It is true the pomp and the 

 pageantry are swept away, but the essential elements 

 remain, the day and the night, the mountain and 

 the valley, the elemental play and succession and 

 the perpetual presence of the infinite sky. In win- 

 ter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the 

 moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens 

 wear a look of a more exalted simplicity. Summer 

 is more wooing and seductive, more versatile and 

 human, appeals to the affections and the sentiments, 

 and fosters inquiry and the art impulse. Winter is 

 of a more heroic cast, and addresses the intellect. 

 The severe studies and disciplines come easier in 

 winter. One imposes larger tasks upon himself, 

 and is less tolerant of his own weaknesses. 



The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is 

 more developed in winter; the fleshy, in summer. 

 I should say winter had given the bone and sinew 

 to Literature, summer the tissues and blood. 



The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The 



