Perhaps I ought to remember that she is very young, a mere girl andmake allowances. She is all interest, eagerness, vivacity, the worldis to her a charm, a wonder, a mystery, a joy; she can't speak fordelight when she finds a new flower, she must pet it and caress itand smell it and talk to it, and pour out endearing names upon it.And she is color-mad: brown rocks, yellow sand, gray moss, green foliage,blue sky; the pearl of the dawn, the purple shadows on the mountains,the golden islands floating in crimson seas at sunset, the pallid moonsailing through the shredded cloud-rack, the star-jewels glitteringin the wastes of space—none of them is of any practical value,so far as I can see, but because they have color and majesty,that is enough for her, and she loses her mind over them.If she could quiet down and keep still a couple minutes at a time,it would be a reposeful spectacle. In that case I think I couldenjoy looking at her; indeed I am sure I could, for I am comingto realize that she is a quite remarkably comelycreature—lithe, slender, trim, rounded, shapely, nimble, graceful; and oncewhen she was standing marble-white and sun-drenched on a boulder,with her young head tilted back and her hand shading her eyes,watching the flight of a bird in the sky, I recognized that shewas beautiful.

MONDAY NOON.—If there is anything on the planet that she is notinterested in it is not in my list. There are animals that I amindifferent to, but it is not so with her. She has no discrimination,she takes to all of them, she thinks they are all treasures,every new one is welcome.

When the mighty brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regardedit as an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a goodsample of the lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things.She wanted to domesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of thehomestead and move out. She believed it could be tamed by kindtreatment and would be a good pet; I said a pet twenty-one feethigh and eighty-four feet long would be no proper