"no,no!"soundedthroughtheair,likeanechoonthemountainchurchbellschime.itwasananswerinsong,inthemeltingtonesofachorusfromothersofnature'sspirits-goodandlovingspirits,thedaughtersofthesunbeam.theywhoplacethemselvesinacircleeveryeveningonthemountainpeaks;theretheyspreadouttheirrose-coloredwings,which,asthesunsinks,becomemoreflamingred,untiltheloftyalpsseemtoburnwithfire.mencallthisthealpineglow.afterthesunhasset,theydisappearwithinthewhitesnowonthemountain-tops,andslumbertheretillsunrise,whentheyagaincomeforth.theyhavegreatloveforflowers,forbutterflies,andformankind;andfromamongthelattertheyhadchosenlittlerudy."youshallnotcatchhim;youshallnotseizehim!"theysang.

"greaterandstrongerthanhehaveiseized!"saidtheicemaiden.

thenthedaughtersofthesunsangasongofthetraveller,whosecloakhadbeencarriedawaybythewind."thewindtookthecovering,butnottheman;itcouldevenseizeuponhim,butnotholdhimfast.thechildrenofstrengtharemorepowerful,moreethereal,eventhanweare.theycanrisehigherthanourparent,thesun.theyhavethemagicwordsthatrulethewindandthewaves,andcompelthemtoserveandobey;andtheycan,atlast,castofftheheavy,oppressiveweightofmortality,andsoarupwards."thussweetlysoundedthebell-liketonesofthechorus.

andeachmorningthesun'sraysshonethroughtheonelittlewindowofthegrandfather'shouseuponthequietchild.thedaughtersofthesunbeamkissedhim;theywishedtothaw,andmelt,andobliteratetheicekisswhichthequeenlymaidenoftheglaciershadgivenhimashelayinthelapofhisdeadmother,inthedeepcrevasseoficefromwhichhehadbeensowonderfullyrescued.

ii.thejourneytothenewhome

rudywasjusteightyearsold,whenhisuncle,wholivedontheothersideofthemountain,wishedtohavetheboy,ashethoughthemightobtainabettereducationwithhim,andlearnsomethingsgrandfatherthoughtthesame,soheconsentedtolethimgo.rudyhadmanytosayfarewellto,aswellashisgrandfather.first,therewasajola,theolddog.

"yourfatherwasthepostilion,andiwasthepostilion'sdog,"saidajola."wehaveoftentravelledthesamejourneytogether;iknewallthedogsandmenonthissideofthemountain.itisnotmyhabittotalkmuch;butnowthatwehavesolittletimetoconversetogether,iwillsaysomethingmorethanusual.iwillrelatetoyouastory,whichihavereflecteduponforalongtime.idonotunderstandit,andverylikelyyouwillnot,butthatisofnoconsequence.ihave,however,learntfromitthatinthisworldthingsarenotequallydivided,neitherfordogsnorformen.allarenotborntolieonthelapandtodrinkmilk:ihaveneverbeenpettedinthisway,butihaveseenalittledogseatedintheplaceofagentlemanorlady,andtravellinginsideapost-chaise.thelady,whowashismistress,orofwhomhewasmaster,carriedabottleofmilk,ofwhichthelittledognowandthendrank;shealsoofferedhimpiecesofsugartocrunch.hesniffedatthemproudly,butwouldnoteatone,sosheatethemherself.iwasrunningalongthedirtyroadbythesideofthecarriageashungryasadogcouldbe,chewingthecudofmyownthoughts,whichwereratherinconfusion.butmanyotherthingsseemedinconfusionalso.whywasnotilyingonalapandtravellinginacoach?