TWAIN-L Archives

Mark Twain Forum

TWAIN-L@YORKU.CA

Options: Use Classic View

Use Monospaced Font
Show Text Part by Default
Condense Mail Headers

Topic: [<< First] [< Prev] [Next >] [Last >>]

Print Reply
Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT
Sender: Mark Twain Forum <[log in to unmask]>
Subject: Alps
From: "James S. Leonard" <[log in to unmask]>
Date: Mon, 30 Sep 1996 12:20:24 -0400
MIME-version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Reply-To: Mark Twain Forum <[log in to unmask]>
Parts/Attachments: text/plain (21 lines)
In response to Philippe Caterino's inquiry, the quotation is from Volume II,
chapter 7 of A Tramp Abroad.  Here it is with a bit more context:

>We were not dreaming; this was not a make-believe home of the Alp-climber,
created by our heated imaginations; no, for here was Mr. Girdlestone
himself, the famous Englishman who hunts his way to the most formidable
Alpine summits without a guide.  I was not equal to imagining a Girdlestone;
it was all I could do to even realize him, while looking straight at him at
short range.  I would rather face whole Hyde Parks of artillery than the
ghastly forms of death which he has faced among the peaks and precipices of
the mountains.  There is probably no pleasure equal to the pleasure of
climbing a dangerous Alp; but it is a pleasure which is confined strictly to
people who can find pleasure in it.  I have not jumped to this conclusion; I
have traveled to it per gravel train, so to speak.  I have thought the thing
all out, and am quite sure I am right.  A born climber's appetite for
climbing is hard to satisfy; when it comes upon him he is like a starving
man with a feast before him; he may have other business on hand, but it must
wait.

Jim Leonard

ATOM RSS1 RSS2