Memory pictures of Puget Sound Region . eatness, and our am-bitions and our hopes grow mighty with lifesprime—the Noon of Life; while the mountainsstand majestic, their strong, clear light reflectedin undimmed splendor at the noontide—proud,undaunted in ambition, rich in beauty, master-ful in power, full of satisfaction! But the day must wane, as all days will, andtoward that other side the light of life slipsdown. How beautiful, when the light holdsstrong, the power is unabated, the purity grownbut clearer, the wealth still richer, the marchunfaltering to the end! And still at eve, the 48 Mem
Memory pictures of Puget Sound Region . eatness, and our am-bitions and our hopes grow mighty with lifesprime—the Noon of Life; while the mountainsstand majestic, their strong, clear light reflectedin undimmed splendor at the noontide—proud,undaunted in ambition, rich in beauty, master-ful in power, full of satisfaction! But the day must wane, as all days will, andtoward that other side the light of life slipsdown. How beautiful, when the light holdsstrong, the power is unabated, the purity grownbut clearer, the wealth still richer, the marchunfaltering to the end! And still at eve, the 48 Memory Pictures. great white mountains of strength stand aboutlifes small horizon, unmoved, reflecting yet thelight—subdued, but in deeper, richer tints, asdoes that life serene, that goes with folded handsand the smile of peace upon its face into thewide hereafter; while another leaf is turned,another of the pages spread before us. And the mountains are still there—the samegreat revelation, the monuments of the imper-ishable ! 49. AND those Hills Beyond! It is alwaysthose that lure me most. Whether Igaze from my window across the waterfar beyond the city roofs and towers, to theirdusky slopes, as many a time I have gazed; or,lean upon the bridges rail across the oldSnohomish, and look up to the sunlit peaks ofdazzling white above; or stand by the watersedge, where the low-lying trees throw theirshadows down into the mirrored deep, and peerthrough a half-haze that softens and veils theirbeauteous forms, as often and often I havedone; tracing the outlines of each huge greenhill, back and still farther away, past tier aftertier, catching the form of each as they recedein long zigzag rows with narrow wedge-like 51 Memory Pictures. spaces between, while the Sun-god throws hisglowing radiance upon every sparkling jewelwith which those robes are woven, and pene-trates the low-down shadows of the hiddenvalleys—it is the same, tis those heights be-yond for which I ever yearn. An
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