attempt to transfer the wondrous coloring of the canyon to canvas.
Authors famed for their eloquent command of language have striven as
vainly to tell to others what their own eyes have seen; how their
senses have been thrilled and their souls uplifted by the marvel that
God's hand has wrought. It can never be pictured. It can never be
described. Only those who have stood as Patricia Doyle stood that
morning and viewed the sublime masterpiece of Nature can realize what
those homely words, "The Grand Canyon" mean. Grand? It is well named.
Since no other adjective can better describe it, that much abused one
may well be accepted to incompletely serve its purpose.

Beth joined her cousin at the window and was instantly as awed
and absorbed as Patsy. Neither remembered Myrtle just then, but
fortunately their friend had left the connecting door of their
rooms ajar and hearing them stirring came in to see if anything had
happened. She found the two cousins staring intently from the window
and went to the second window herself, thus witnessing the spectacle
in all its glory.

Even after the magnificent coloring of sunrise had faded the sight was
one to rivet the attention. The hotel seemed built at the very edge of
the canyon, and at their feet the ground appeared to fall away and a
great gulf yawned that was tinted on all its diverse sides with hues
that rivaled those of the rainbow. Across the chasm they could clearly
see the trees and hills; yet these were fully thirteen miles distant,
for here is one of the widest portions of the great abyss.

"I'm going to dress," said Beth, breaking the silence at last. "It
seems a sin to stay cooped up in here when such a glorious panorama is
at one's feet."