ing green. Everything was something besides white, and the world that was in Eepersip's range of vision was fairyland.
But, as she went on, clouds began to float in—little white clouds. They grew thicker and thicker, until, before she had come near the highest peak, there was nothing but pearly mist—scudding grey mist, curling into fantastic shapes as it rose. She could sec nothing, and she sat down in the snow to wait. That night a gale came up, whistling and howling around the peaks, reminding Eepersip of that storm at sea. What an awesome sound it made! It sleeted, too, and when she awoke the next morning the snow was covered with a crust. The mist had partly cleared, and she pushed on again. She went through icy hollows and up on shimmering peaks, until, finally, she saw near her that long-sought summit, and, with a shout of joy, she dashed up. Fast she went, but when she really reached it at last, the mist had closed in again, the wind was up, and it was sleeting furiously. It was only through a break in the mist that she had made the summit at all.
***
The next morning it was still misty, but not nearly so thick. There was even a faint purple glow
