A Bouquet of Song Birds 
from every thought and object forming its set- 
ting and perspective (if such a thing were pos- 
sible), rooted or suspended in meaningless void 
space, and its charm would often be immeasur- 
ably diminished. A universal communism en- 
chances the effect of one element of Nature by 
another. Even the dank soil, and the refuse cf 
decaying leaves that pollute the ground through- 
out the woods in spring, through which the 
earliest blossoms push themselves, give to the 
hepatica a livelier purple, to the ‘‘spring beauty ”’ 
a daintier pink, to the anemone a purer white. 
The gloomy skies and rasping atmosphere of 
March add lustre to the robin’s breast and to 
the bluebird’s back, and the roaring winds im- 
part to them their most enchanting delicacy of 
song. It issummer’s intolerable heat and glare 
that create the heavenly shade and coolness of 
the woodland path, and the refreshment of the 
babbling brook. The waters are made glorious 
at night by shattered and shivered rays that 
dance upon the moonlight path across the lake, 
and the paroxysm of a wintry storm without 
creates a marvellous content within. 
When one seeks the acquaintance of some 
notable personage, he is often aiming, not sim- 
ply at the advantage that will accrue from such 
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