CHOCORUA IN NOVEMBER. 197 
The daylight faded early, but as the sun sank 
it poured more and more color into the hills. 
Reflected rays danced from the window-panes 
of farmhouses on the high slopes to the east of 
the track. Such glimpses of isolated buildings 
have a flavor of home and snugness which no 
city suggests. The absence of leaves and the 
presence of many shadows cast by the low No¬ 
vember sun revealed more clearly than usual 
the pleasing contours of glacial hills and their 
eroded sides. Most of the gravelly products of 
the glacier are graceful in outline, composed of 
easy curves or gentle undulations. Not only 
are the sky lines grateful to the eye, but those 
which curve forward and back along the line of 
vision have in them the element of beauty. 
The cutting of banks by streams leaves many 
a gentle terrace which advances, retreats, now 
makes a bold front, the next moment shrinks 
away in a bow-shaped bay. Ice and water seem 
to abhor straight lines, but to love rhythmic mo¬ 
tion. Upon a small glacial mound shaped like 
a beehive stood a single pine, brave-limbed and 
lichen-grown. I have noticed it for years, and 
something in its pose always suggests “The 
Monarch of the Glen,” with head erect and 
every sense alert. It was much fuller of anima¬ 
tion than the flock of dingy sheep which at first 
sight I thought to be moss-covered boulders. 
