. The top of the continent; the story of a cheerful journey through our national parks. n-ley. The water is very cold, you know. Yes, theyrebig. The little ones run a pound. I wont take youfishing. Jack, but Ill take the whole party out in thelaunch. No one has seen Crater Lake who has notskirted its shores in a boat. Mrs. Jefferson, after an automobile ride to differentpoints on the ruin, had agreed that the deep blue,which she had considered a gross exaggeration in thepictures and lantern-slides she had seen at home, didnot begin to express the wonder of the lakes actualcolor. Under differen
. The top of the continent; the story of a cheerful journey through our national parks. n-ley. The water is very cold, you know. Yes, theyrebig. The little ones run a pound. I wont take youfishing. Jack, but Ill take the whole party out in thelaunch. No one has seen Crater Lake who has notskirted its shores in a boat. Mrs. Jefferson, after an automobile ride to differentpoints on the ruin, had agreed that the deep blue,which she had considered a gross exaggeration in thepictures and lantern-slides she had seen at home, didnot begin to express the wonder of the lakes actualcolor. Under different slants of light, it is every shade ofblue there is, she said. Right down there now, it isdeeper than any indigo or Prussian blue I ever haveseen. It is really almost black. And compare thatwith the vivid greenish blue of the edges. But the wonderful water, said Aunt Jane, seemsto me scarcely as wonderful as these mauve cliffs. Itis hard to say just what color they really are. Some-times they are gray, sometimes blue, sometimes pur-ple, sometimes yellow, but mostly, I think, Photograph by Fred II. Riser The water is bluer than the darkest indigo 150 THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT They change their color from hour to hour. A cloudfloats across the sun and instantly we have a new colorscheme. When that thunder-storm threatened yester-day, the whole lake acquired a foreboding, almost ter-rible, aspect; and yet at sunset it became a sort ofpainters palette, a riot of glorified color—every softand gentle tint you can conceive, set off against theheavy but translucent shadows under the westerncliffs. Yes, put in Mrs. Jefferson eagerly, **and beforesunrise it is again altogether different. I looked at itfrom my window this morning. The walls were graythen, and you could plainly see those great splashesof sulphur yellow across the lake. The water thenwas the color of polished steel. The surface ap-peared hard, as if frozen. It looked as if a rockthrown upon it would bounce up and
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyorkchicagoetcc
