MAY 



[HE success of the naturalist depends 

 far less upon his area of observation 

 than would be commonly supposed. 

 Where he looks is of less importance 

 than how he looks, and the experienced eye 

 will often glean a rich harvest from apparently 

 most unpromising fields. One's range of re- 

 search is usually determined by circumstances 

 rather than by preference ; and in either case 

 unfamiliar surroundings will, in a measure, dis- 

 tract his attention from the objects he is im- 

 mediately seeking, while increasing familiarity 

 with the place leaves the mind freer for its 

 work, and gives quicker discernment of all the 

 treasures hidden within it, until at last it may 

 prove a very prolific field of investigation. It 

 will rarely occur, however, that one will come 

 to have such confidence in its boundless re- 

 sources as to feel that complacent admiration 

 which Thoreau cherished for his favorite haunts, 

 of whom it is recorded that on one occasion he 



