ade my wants known
to one of the officers, who very kindly spread a table with such things
as he and his companions had just been eating. It would be out of place
to say much about the luncheon: the bread and butter were good, and the
pudding was interesting. I had the cook's word for it that the latter
was made of corn-starch, but he volunteered no explanation of its color,
which was nearly that of chocolate. As a working hypothesis I adopted
the molasses or brown-sugar theory, but a brief experiment (as brief as
politeness permitted) indicated a total absence of any saccharine
principle. But then, what do we climb mountains for, if not to see
something out of the common course? On the whole, if this department of
our national government is ever on trial for extravagance in the matter
of high living, I shall be moved to offer myself as a competent witness
for the defense.

A company of chimney-swifts were flying criss-cross over the summit, and
one of the men said that he presumed they lived there. I took the
liberty to doubt his opinion, however. To me it seemed nothing but a
blunder that they should be there even for an hour. There could hardly
be many insects at that height, I thought, and I had abundant cause to
know that the woods below were full of them. I knew, also, that the
swifts knew it; for while I had been prowling about between Crawford's
and Fabyan's, they had several times shot by my head so closely that I
had instinctively fallen to calculating the probable consequences of a
collision. But, after all, the swift is no doubt a far better
entomologist than I am, though he has never heard of Packard's Guide.
Possibly there are certain species of insects, and those of a peculiarly
delicate savor, which are to be obtained only at about this altitude.

The most enjoyable part of the Crawford path is the five miles from the
top of Mount Clinton to the foot of the Mount Washington cone. Along
this ridge I was delighted to find in blossom two beautiful Alpine
plants, which I had missed in previous (July) visits,--the diapensia
(_Diapensia Lapponica_) and the Lapland rose-bay (_Rhododendron
Lapponicum_),--and to get also a single forward specimen of _Potentilla
frigida_. Here and there was a humblebee, gathering honey from the small
purple catkins of the prostrate willows, now in full bloom. (Rather
high-minded humblebees, they seemed, more than five thousand feet above
the sea!) Professional entomologists (the