A FAT LITTLE EDITOR. V1

pine trees, the lovely pine-wood houses;
all, all. We proposed to hunt and fish,
for food. But we had some bread, some
bacon, lots of coffee and sugar. And so,
whipping out our hooks and lines, we set
off with the editor up a little mountain
brook, and in less than an hour were far
up among the fields of eternal snow, and
finely loaded with trout.

What a bed of pine quills! What long
and delicious cones for a camp fire! Some
of those sugar-pine cones are as long as
your arm. One of them alone will make a
lofty pyramid of flame and illuminate the
scene for half a mile about. I threw my-
self on my back and kicked up my heels.
I kicked care square in the face. Oh, what
freedom! How we would rest after dinner
here! Of course we could not all rest or
sleep at the same time. One of us would
- have to keep a pine cone burning all the
time. Bears are not very numerous out
here; but the California lion is both numer-
ous and large here. The wild-cat, too, is