these now and then are those who even if they come but for the single trip, would fain listen and look and who catch dim glimpses of a mystic world just out of sight. For these the mountain has its own whispered word; a revival of the heart; a scarcely understood, elusive something that lives like a clearly etched memory, with almost a wonder at its vividness.
But only to those who linger here week by week and year by year, held by the growing and enchanting spell of the Wise Old Giant is given the Open Sesame to his garnered wisdom and strength. But one may stay at the little hostelry for many weeks and not be able to explore every threadlike path with all the twisting links and visit every nook he loves; for when the fall day comes when he must sighingly descend to ordinary life again, something has always been left to next year.
But through the winter days that follow, there remains within the heart, all through the swirl of city life, with its hammering
