ADVENTURES WITH AN AX 



THERE is no better company than a good, 

 sharp ax. (A dull ax is like a dull person, 

 and breeds weariness and boredom.) Among 

 my happiest recollections of the year are those 

 cold, clear winter days when I go up the mountain, 

 on snow-shoes perhaps, with my double-bitted, 

 long-handled ax over one shoulder and my lunch- 

 box slung from a strap over the other, as the 

 morning sun is waking all the snowy world to a 

 dazzle, and return, weary but aglow with the 

 heat of exercise, as the purple shadows are creep- 

 ing eastward and the far hills are touched with 

 amethyst. You might suppose that within the 

 compass of such a day was little but rather mo- 

 notonous toil, hard toil, too, with the chances 

 in favor of cold fingers and uncomfortable feet. 

 But you would be quite wrong, except that it is 



