r side of their road, and sensed the mystery that marks the birth of
a new day--"but that is not a proper way to go to the mountains.

"The mountains"--he continued, with his eyes upon the distant
heights--"are not seen by those who would visit them with a rattle and
clatter and rush and roar--as one would visit the cities of men. They are
to be seen only by those who have the grace to go quietly; who have the
understanding to go thoughtfully; the heart to go lovingly; and the spirit
to go worshipfully. They are to be approached, not in the manner of one
going to a horse-race, or a circus, but in the mood of one about to enter
a great cathedral; or, indeed, of one seeking admittance to the very
throne-room of God. When going to the mountains, one should take time to
feel them drawing near. They are never intimate with those who hurry. Mere
sight-seers seldom see much of anything. If possible,"--insisted the
speaker, smiling gravely upon his companion,--"one should always spend, at
least, a full day in the approach. Before entering the immediate presence
of the hills, one should first view them from a distance, seeing them from
base to peak--in the glory of the day's beginning, as they watch the world
awake; in the majesty of full noon, as they maintain their calm above the
turmoil of the day's doing; and in the glory of the sun's departure, as it
lights last their crests and peaks. And then, after such a day, one should
sleep, one night, at their feet."

The artist listened with delight, as he always did when his friend spoke
in those rare moods that revealed a nature so unknown to the world that
had made him famous. When the novelist finished, the young man said
gently, "And your words, my friend, are almost a direct quotation from
that anonymous book which my mother so loved."

"Perhaps they are, Aaron"--admitted Conrad Lagrange--"perhaps they are."

So it was that they spent that day--in leisure approach--the patient
Croesus, with his burden, always in the lead, and Czar, like a merry
sprite, playing here and there. Several times they stopped to rest beside
the road, while provident Croesus gathered a few mouthfuls of grass or
weeds. Many times they halted to enjoy the scene that changed with every
step.

Their road led always upward, with a gradual, easy grade; and by noon they
had left the cultivated section of the lower valley for the higher,
untilled lands. The dark, glossy-green of the orange and the lighter