top. We spent the night there and next
morning the older mem- bers of our party — Andy and Eben Fiske, David
Crockett and I, descended via Tuckerman's Ravine, and
the younger ones went down the carriage road
with Aunt Manie and Mrs. Crockett. We all met at a camping ground at the
foot of the mountain where we spread out
tarpaulins and blankets for our Alpine bivouack.
About midnight it started to rain and we took to our automo- biles
for shelter. Aunt Manie, who could always fall asleep any-
where, made herself comfortable on the front seat of her auto-mobile.
She dropped off almost immediately and then rolled
over onto the horn button. Being deaf, she was unable to hear
the noise, but the rest of us could and were rather puzzled by
its persistence until we investigated and discovered the reason.
The following day, our fifth, we drove back to Ipswich and
the trip was pronounced a success. Later in the summer I climbed Mount
Washington again, this time with Sidney Shurcliff. We
went by way of Huntington Ravine which had very impressive views, and I
told Aunt Manie about the trip and suggested we ascend the mountain by
that route next year. So early the fol- lowing summer I called on her to
discuss a date.
"I'm afraid I can't go," she said.
"Why not ?" I questioned her.
Then she asked me if I was easily embarrassed and when I
told her I was not she announced that she was going to have
In due course Peter, the youngest of my Robbins cousins, arrived.
Although it was several years before I finally guided
Aunt Manie up Huntington Ravine, her enthusiasm for the