CHAPTER IX 
TWENTY HILL HOLLOW ! 
ERE we to cross-cut the Sierra 
Nevada into blocks a dozen miles 
or so in thickness, each section 
would contain a Yosemite Valley and a river, 
together with a bright array of lakes and mead- 
ows, rocks and forests. The grandeur and in- 
exhaustible beauty of each block would be so 
vast and over-satisfying that to choose among 
them would be like selecting slices of bread 
cut from the same loaf. One bread-slice might 
have burnt spots, answering to craters; another 
would be more browned; another, more crusted 
or raggedly cut; but all essentially the same. In 
no greater degree would the Sierra slices differ 
in general character. Nevertheless, we all would 
choose the Merced slice, because, being easier 
of access, it has been nibbled and tasted, and 
1 This is the hub of the region where Mr. Muir spent the 
greater part of the summer of 1868 and the spring of 1869. 
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