rticular, have become so adhesive with the mixed fat and
resin that pine needles, thin flakes and fibres of bark, hair, mica
scales and minute grains of quartz, hornblende, etc., feathers, seed
wings, moth and butterfly wings, legs and antennae of innumerable
insects, or even whole insects such as the small beetles, moths and
mosquitoes, with flower petals, pollen dust and indeed bits of all
plants, animals, and minerals of the region adhere to them and are
safely imbedded, so that though far from being a naturalist he collects
fragmentary specimens of everything and becomes richer than he knows.
His specimens are kept passably fresh, too, by the purity of the air and
the resiny bituminous beds into which they are pressed. Man is a
microcosm, at least our shepherd is, or rather his trousers. These
precious overalls are never taken off, and nobody knows how old they
are, though one may guess by their thickness and concentric structure.
Instead of wearing thin they wear thick, and in their stratification
have no small geological significance.

Besides herding the sheep, Billy is the butcher, while I have agreed to
wash the few iron and tin utensils and make the bread. Then, these small
duties done, by the time the sun is fairly above the mountain-tops I am
beyond the flock, free to rove and revel in the wilderness all the big
immortal days.

Sketching on the North Dome. It commands views of nearly all the valley
besides a few of the high mountains. I would fain draw everything in
sight--rock, tree, and leaf. But little can I do beyond mere
outlines,--marks with meanings like words, readable only to myself,--yet
I sharpen my pencils and work on as if others might possibly be
benefited. Whether these picture-sheets are to vanish like fallen leaves
or go to friends like letters, matters not much; for little can they
tell to those who have not themselves seen similar wildness, and like a
language have learned it. No pain here, no dull empty hours, no fear of
the past, no fear of the future. These blessed mountains are so
compactly filled with God's beauty, no petty personal hope or experience
has room to be. Drinking this champagne water is pure pleasure, so is
breathing the living air, and every movement of limbs is pleasure, while
the whole body seems to feel beauty when exposed to it as it feels the
camp-fire or sunshine, entering not by the eyes alone, but equally
through all one's flesh like radiant heat, making a passi