A Victim of Thoreau. 



sunshine, an abundance of green grass, of singing 

 birds, of piping frogs, and, here and there, scat- 

 tered dandelions and violets. The day teemed 

 with life, and yet mankind was not astir. No 



farmer was ploughing, and the highway was de- 

 serted. This added zest to my stroll, for such 

 solitude gives one the feeling of a world to him- 

 self. I walked a mile or more alone, and then, 



