[1] Cf. Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers, 1st Series, p. 296.




THE MODERN CLIMBER.

Year after year, as Summer suns come round,
Upon the Calais packet am I found:
Thence to Geneva hurried by express,
I halt for breakfast, bathe, and change my dress.
My well-worn knapsack to my back I strap;
My Alpine rope I neatly round me wrap;
Then, axe in hand, the diligence disdaining,
I walk to Chamonix, by way of training.
Arrived at Coutlet's Inn by eventide,
I interview my porter and my guide:
My guide, that Mentor who has dragg'd full oft
These aching, shaking, quaking limbs aloft;
Braved falling stones, cut steps on ice-slopes steep,
That _I_ the glory of _his_ deeds might reap.
My porter, who with uncomplaining back
O'er passes, peaks, and glaciers bears my pack:
Tho' now the good man looks a trifle sadder,
When I suggest the ill-omened name of "ladder."
O'er many a pipe our heads we put together;
Our first enquiry is of course "the weather."
With buoyant hearts the star-lit heaven we view;