FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 139 



that the great bell must have rung out its 

 twelve heavy strokes a half-hour before, yet 

 the accustomed nerve of sense had conveyed 

 no message to the brain. 



Sometimes the friction endures, and the 

 note of pain reaches the bystander after 

 many days, months, or years. I have been 

 sitting in the wood, and as the wind swayed 

 the branches I would hear the appeal of 

 some dryad among them, moaning in her 

 pain. Sometimes it has required quite a 

 long search to discover the sufferer, but at 

 length it would be found, a branch which 

 year after year had borne the burden of 

 another, ever becoming heavier and more 

 insistent as the years rolled on, and grind 

 ing its way into the vital substance. And 

 then again I have found instances where as 

 time had passed the two had become incor 

 porate, and the wood nymph had escaped 

 her torture by appropriating her burden as 

 an integral part of her substance. 



It is well when strength can thus be con 

 quered from calamity. Each time Antseus 

 was thrown to the ground, his vigour was in 

 creased ; contact with mother earth gave 

 strength to her child. So it should be al 

 ways, and so, I fondly hope, it usually is. 



But when I began, I was thinking more 



