lington said, "That habit which is ten times nature."
The climber laughed down at the sunny-faced lad.
"Not used to the woods, are you?"
"Not much. Seashore, mostly. Like to sail. But I'd like this too. We came last evening. My father used to come here, but I never came before. He took me up on the Pulpit Rock trail and then we tumbled into a path which was all broken rocks right under it—Hedgehog—he called it. Then back there when I saw this bully long stretch through the woods, I sprinted. But," returning to the point, as he sprang up, "how in thunder do you see dead wood when you're running, before you grab it?"
"That's part of wood-lore. Disciplined eyesight, I suppose," returned the Mountain-Lover.
"At any rate, if you climb much, you'll cultivate it. You'll get bad falls if you don't! Or else don't try stunts. Let your eye be quicker than your hand—that's all. Sure you're not hurt? Is that
