November 
The stream of ornithological pleasure flows 
more evenly through the whole year than the 
uninitiated would imagine; for one winter- 
bird counts for ten in summer, rarity in grati- 
fication carries its own compensation of inten- 
sity, and—a constant quantity the year round 
—one always cherishes the exhilarating expec- 
tancy of the unexpected. 
Variety is not half so essential a spice of life 
as expectancy. Indeed, from the cradle to the 
grave anticipation is more than a spice, it isa 
large part of the very subsistence of life. We 
all live more in the fairer to-morrow than in 
to-day, and find more exhilaration in reaching 
forth for new fruit, than in enjoying the fruit 
in hand—in casting the fly, than in counting 
the fish in the basket. One of the best things 
to be said about immortality is, that it means 
a future never drawn upon. 
297 
