64 Musing's by Camp-Fire and Wayside 



habit of looking for its beauties. We do not always 

 catch them at a glance. We must individualize a 

 scene and study it as we do a picture. Below my 

 bedroom window, at home, stand some cut-leaf 

 birches, so'me wild cherries, and a variety of shrubs. 

 Beyond are tall elms and popples. One would say 

 at a glance that they are pretty. But as they come 

 so often into view, morning and evening, I have 

 become familiar with them, and they have had time 

 to make their impression on me, so that I now see 

 that they are not only pretty, they are beautiful, 

 full of beauty which reveals itself in many ways. 

 They nearly always have something new to exhibit, 

 the dew in the morning, the varying colors of the 

 evening, the gentle fluttering, the periods of quiet. 



I had noticed before the wild excitement of the 

 trees in a violent wind storm — how they frown at 

 its approach and become frightened when it strikes, 

 swaying and dashing hither and yon as if they would 

 escape. Those elms, one evening late, in a sudden 

 wind, showed agitation and alarm in their conflict 

 with a foe which too often lays the forest low. 



There are beauties in nature which are so strik- 

 ing that we see them at a glance. There are others 

 which come out coyly, and with a kind of surprise. 

 If we do not recognize them immediately we shall 

 not find them by search. They are modest and 

 shrink from a stare. They come upon us like an 

 unexpected party of friends when one is out for a 

 walk, or like a burst of thrush-song from a leafy 



