the High Mountain.

She did not think the grand views off the edge of the high mountain
so strange. But she loved to look out on those views as she stood
by Sister Helen Vincula on the graycliff; Sister Helen Vincula
holding her hand very fast while they both looked down into the
valleys and coves. As the shadows of evening crept up to the cliff
whereon they stood, and as those shadows folded round and round the
points and coves, those points and caves lying below and beyond fold
over fold, everything grew purple and violet.

Everything grew so purple, and so violet, and so great, and so wide
that it seemed sometimes to the little girl, standing on the cliff
by Sister Helen Vincula, that she was looking right down into the
heart of a violet as great, as wide--as great, as wide--as the whole
world.

But this did not seem so strange to Bessie Bell, for she yet
remembered that window out of which one could see just small, green,
moving things, and of which great grown people had told her, ``No,
Bessie Bell, there is no such window in all the world.''

So in her own way she thought that maybe after awhile that the big,
big violet might drift away, away, and great grown people might say,
``No, Bessie Bell, there never was a violet in all the world like
that.''

It was the people--and all the people--of that new world that seemed
so strange to Bessie Bell.