your father coming?" He smiled and nodded at the well-knit boy who waved his hand first at the approaching figure, then at himself, and then dashed off down the steepest part of the path with unabated zeal. The climber watched him with interest as he took a flying leap, slipped, and then slid down fifteen feet or so on his back. The observer waited for a moment to speak to the father as he drew near.
"Loose stone," he commented, as they both watched the boy pick himself up again. "Not hurt, though. Oh, well! he'll learn."
The climber took his own leisurely way upwards again as they parted. He left the Hedgehog trail where the little emerald rug of the Green Carpet trail spreads itself under the ice-worn heights of the great ridge above him, and went across its green delights. His thoughts were on the boy and the broken branch.
"What mishaps of life come through lack of this seeing eye!" he mused. "Having eyes they see not and hearing they do not
