THE SUMMIT OF THE YEARS 



bales of hay near by and tried to sleep away the 

 remainder of the night. But sleep did not come. All 

 night I heard the clattering of hoofs and sabres as 

 regiments of arriving cavalry filed slowly by me. 

 In the morning I made my way back to the city, 

 satisfied that military glory was not in the line of 

 my ambition. 



War is a terrible business, but I never see a 

 veteran of our Civil War that I do not envy him 

 that experience — an experience which maybe I 

 should have had, had not grandfather so nearly 

 emptied the family powder-horn in his soldiering 

 with Washington. 



11 < 



From youth to age I have lived with nature more 

 than with men. In youth I saw nature as a stand- 

 ing invitation to come forth and give play to myself; 

 the streams were for fishing and swimming, the 

 woods were for hunting and exploring, and for all 

 kinds of sylvan adventure; the fields were for berries 

 and birds' nests, and color, and the delight of the 

 world of grasses; the mountains were for climbing 

 and the prospects and the triumphs of their summits. 



The world was good; it tasted good, it delighted 

 all my senses. The seasons came and went, each 

 with its own charms and enticements. I was ready 

 for each and contented with each. The spring was 

 for the delights of sugar-making, and the returning 

 10 



