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Updated: June 29, 2025
"A good climber can do it I have done it. I'd even go with you, if I could." "Why?" She shook her head angrily at what he dared show in his eyes. "Oh, keep still, listen!" "I know you'd go, Nan," he declared unperturbed. "But believe me, I never would let you." "I can't go, because to do any good I must meet you with a horse outside."
Accordingly he mated the Rose Athelin, of vivid crimson, with Russelliana, a hardy climber, and lo, the flower he had imagined and longed for stood revealed! But this hitting the mark at the first shot is uncommon good fortune with the gardener. No experience with primrose or chrysanthemum is long and varied enough to tell him how the crossing of two different stocks will issue.
Would you know what it is to hope again, and have all your hopes at hand? hang upon the crags at a gradient: that makes your next step a debate between the thing you are and the thing you may become. There the merry little hopes grow for the climber like flowers and food, immediate, prompt to prove their uses, sufficient: if just within the grasp, as mortal hopes should be.
'It grieves me; but I am forced to resort to eccentricity. And here he drops his napkin in his soup and rises up and bows to a gent who is devastating a potato under a palm across the room. "'The Police Commissioner, says my climber, gratified. 'Friend', says I, in a hurry, 'have ambitions but don't kick a rung out of your ladder.
At last, however, Rob found a sort of cleft or large crack, which seemed to lead up toward the top, and whose rough sides seemed to give foothold sufficient for a bold climber. "Here we go, fellows!" he said, and so started on up, hand over hand, the best he could. To their satisfaction, however, they found the going not so hard as it had looked from below.
And at the top to stand in the "stainless eminence of air," to look down eight ten a thousand feet to the toy village at the foot while John names all the other angel peaks that soar round us, tell me, you who are also a climber, is it not very good? But the coming down!
There was one. The nickum churlish climber had pulled himself up by it. Like him, she had fought shy of it, sliding down, for fear it should catch in her clothing. A little spur it was, projecting from a slight fissure, what he called a "nick," in the rock, rather more than half-way up, a good seven feet from the rocky armchair. Breathlessly she reached upward, to grasp it.
It is a terrible thing for a climber to lose his nerve while in the air. "No use," he told himself. "I'd only get shaken off again and next time I'd be out of luck. Shame too, just when I was getting things." Again he caught his companion's call. "Storm's almost here! Guess we'll have to climb."
Aidez moi un peu avec ces satanees cordes!" The climber slithered down on his heels, a cataract of shingle streaming behind him. Swift to seize his chance, Kit rushed the crest, the crash of the Frenchman's retreat drowning his approach. There, flat on his face, he peeped. Beneath him, on the run of the shingle, lay the lugger.
This action upon their part threw a number of the red horsemen among the woods, where Fred was perched, so that he had every reason for being alarmed. He was a skillful climber, however, and when he reached the trunk he moved down it, with the nimbleness of a monkey, taking care, however, not to be too rapid or sudden, as the movement might attract notice.
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