From Pillar to Post 



I find, where I walk, a rusty pan among the 

 dead leaves and a vesper mouse has made a 

 snug home of it. It suggests that the art of 

 much comfort from little is better than sup- 

 posititious ease from much. He really does not 

 enjoy Nature who demands it in excess, and 

 must have oceans and mountains, and spurns 

 the modest hills and wood-girt ponds that are 

 round about him. 



When the tide turns, as it so surely will, what 

 a sorry spectacle presents itself ! We are hope- 

 lessly miserable because our riches have taken 

 to flight; for the time, priding ourselves upon 

 our independence, but proving sadly dependent 

 after all. Nothing of all this is seen here on 

 this hillside. The blue sky and snow-white 

 clouds are emblems of peace. The fresh green 

 leaves are even merry, as the sunlight seeks 

 them out. They flutter, not in fear, but with 

 delight, and what a hymning of Nature's maj- 

 esty when thrush and oriole, robin and bobo- 

 link, give way to the joy within them, and every 

 breeze is laden alike with music and the breath 

 of flowers. It is well not to be envious, but 

 other forms of life have much to commend 

 them. 



257 



