168 "THE GOOD time" COME AT LAST. 



more ? Oh, if we mortals had the management of the seasons, how nicely 

 tee should arrange these matters ! We should have sunshine all the year 

 round, — and pay the needful penalty, in the way of compensation, for our 

 folly ! ! Which state of things is preferable ? Poor human nature ! 



Well, — in spite of all our alarms, doubts, fears, misgivings, and sufferings, 

 — sweet Spring Jias arrived, bringing lovely Summer in her train. So, 

 Messieurs Gout, Bronchitis, Toothache, Headache, Heartache, — one and all, 

 vanish ! We have petted you too long ; kept company mth you till we are 

 sick of your presence. Avaunt ! 



A month or two agone, I recorded an interesting little ramble of mine, 

 through snow and frost. I was, as I told you, alone in my glory. I could 

 not ask any fair friend to share with me the risk of a damp foot. That 

 difficulty exists no longer. I have recently, in the company of a certain 

 guardian angel, realised amidst clouds and sunshine, trees, flowers, and 

 birds, pleasing scenes out of number, in which both could take an undivided 

 interest. Man is " nothing " without his associate. 



A long preamble this, to sylvan wanderings and strolls through Nature's 

 garden ! Many, however, will doubtless thank me for turning their minds 

 into a pleasant channel, and reminding them that " the time of the singing 

 of birds is come," with all its attendant loveliness. If we have no time to 

 fraternise with Nature, we must maJce time. Rebellion against custom and 

 fashion's laws becomes a duty. Well has the poet sung, — 



" Talk not of want of leisure ; 



Believe me, time was made 

 For laughter, mirth, and pleasure, 



Far more than toil or trade. 

 Yes, little short I hold 



That social state from madness, 

 For daily bread when 's sold 



Man's natural right to gladness." 



Passing lightly over the early part of May — when fires were the mile, not 

 he exception — let me speak of May 29th; aye, and of every day since. 

 May 29th, was " Whit-Tuesday." The two previous days had ushered in 

 tori'ents of rain. The earth, parched with drought, had drained, in feverish 

 ecstacy, every drop to the dregs. The trees expanded their leaves to receive 

 the blessing, and all Nature made meriy. The holiday folk grumbled sadly 

 at their disappointment ; but/ rejoiced exceedingly, as I lay tumbling on 

 my pillow, big with expectation of what I knew awaited me in the vegetable 

 kingdom. And how melodiously sweet were the early matins of the fea- 

 thered choir! Sleep became irksome two hours after midnight The birds 

 had then begun their worship; and I tried to make one amongst them. 

 Surely this morning sacrifice of adoration, love, and praise, must be accept- 

 able to our all-wise and most beneficent Creator ? I live happy in that 

 belief, and I expect to die happy in it. 



