apuiEiing tl^e Cigl^tl^ 



Nature's hitelligence 



THE Mississippi reaches out the Desplaines 

 River to dispute with Lake Michigan for 

 the rainfall that is due to the lake — parallels 

 the lake shore. When at home I spend many Sun- 

 day afternoons in the woods and glades which lie 

 along this river. There is nothing merry or musical 

 in this prairie stream. It is small enough to be 

 young, rash, and happy; but it is slow and solemn 

 as a Sabbath afternoon of my boyhood. It flows 

 without a ripple or a dimple between its banks of 

 black loam, and really does not appear sufficiently 

 spirited to kiss a pebbly margin, even if one ran 

 down fresh and sweet out of the woods to meet it. 

 The scenery has no points. It lies down flat, with 

 a dogged determination to cast no reflections on 

 the character of the river. But it is better for a 

 Sunday afternoon than that wild city down there on 

 the lake, where they squeeze the juice out of men 

 as if they were lemons, and toss the rinds away. 

 And then I find no end of pleasant companions in 

 walks otherwise solitary. They are not as avari- 

 cious, original, and fresh in their ideas as my com- 

 panions here in the wilderness, but they are the best 

 substitute that is to be had. There are birds, 



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