FIELD-DAYS IN CALIFORNIA 



Comparatively little profit, I say; but in abso- 

 lute terms a great profit, nevertheless, for any 

 man who is an adept in the art of living, wise 

 enough to value not only his life, but the days 

 of his life. It is something to spend a happy 

 hour, a happy week or month, though that were 

 to be the end of it. And such a two months as I 

 spent in the Yosemite ! Let what will happen to 

 me henceforth, so much at least I have enjoyed. 

 Even if I should never think of the place again, 

 though memory should fail me altogether, those 

 eight weeks were mine. While they lasted I 

 lived and was happy. Six o'clock every morning 

 saw me at the breakfast-table, and half an hour 

 later, with bread in my pocket, I was on the 

 road, head in air, stepping briskly for warmth, 

 and singing with myself over the anticipation of 

 new adventures. I might be heading for Eagle 

 Peak or Nevada Fall, for Glacier Point, or where 

 not. What matter.' Here was another day of 

 Sierra sunlight and Sierra air, in which to look 

 and look, and listen and listen, and play with my 

 thoughts and dreams. Who was it that said, 

 " Take care of the days, and life will take care 

 of itself.'" Others, men and women, old and 

 young, were setting forth on the same holiday 

 errand ; as we met or passed each other we ex- 

 changed cheerful greetings ; but for my part I 

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