THE HAUNTS OF A NATUARLIST 



By H.. Tui^lsen. 



IT matters not how densely populated with human inhabit- 

 ants a given locality in the rural districts may be, there 

 are spots therein that are seldom — almost never — visited by 

 man. 



While being written the foregoing statement seemed ab- 

 solutely sound, but a second thought informs us that to be 

 made unassailable it .must be cj[ualified by the subordinate pro- 

 position, "unless the locality mentioned be the working-ground 

 of a naturalist." The ordinary man, in passing to and fro in 

 the performance of his daily tasks, takes the paths of least 

 resistance and thus avoids the arduous and uninviting places, 

 but the naturalist's vocation demands that he be practically 

 ubiquitous and there are few spots, no matter how small and 

 mean, or how forbidding and difficult of access in the neigh- 

 borhood in which he sojourns, that occasionally do not see the 

 face of man — at least of one. And very true it is that many 

 a lonely, out-of-the-way nook holds mighty secrets that are 

 revealed only to him that delights to delve into the penetralia 

 of Nature — to worship at her shrines. 



The true student of nature regards not a bunch of Tril- 

 liums, or violets, or bluebells, kept alive in a vase of water — 

 pathetic, second-hand things — when he can enjoy the fellow- 

 ship of Nature's children near to her heart and warmed by 

 her life-blood. He goes to the fields and woods not to "pick 

 flowers", in the ordinary sense of the phrase. To him such 

 is sacrilege, just as truly as the destruction of a wren's nest, 

 or the shooting of a robin. 



