FOOT-PATHS. 201 



and beech wood, then through a long stretch of rather 

 barren pasture land which brought us to the creek in 

 the valley, which we crossed on a slab or a couple of 

 rails from the near fence ; then more meadow land 

 with a neglected orchard, and then the little gray 

 school-house itself toeing the highway. In winter 

 our course was a hard, beaten path in the snow vis- 

 ible from afar, and in summer a well-defined trail. 

 In the woods it wore the roots of the trees. It 

 steered for the gaps or low places in the fences, and 

 avoided the bogs and swamps in the meadow. I 

 can recall yet the very look, the very physiognomy 

 of a large birch-tree that stood beside it in the midst 

 of the woods; it sometimes tripped me up with a 

 large root it sent out like a foot. Neither do I for- 

 get the little spring run near by where we frequently 

 paused to drink, and gathered " crinkle " root (Den- 

 tana) in the early summer, nor the dilapidated log 

 fence that was the highway of the squirrels, nor the 

 ledges to one side from whence in early spring the 

 skunk and 'coon sallied forth and crossed our path, 

 nor the gray, scabby rocks in the pasture, nor the 

 solitary tree, nor the old weather-worn stump ; no, 

 nor the creek in which I plunged one winter morning 

 ,n attempting to leap its swollen current. But the 

 path served only one generation of school children ; 

 it faded out more than thirty years ago, and the feet 

 that made it are widely scattered, while some of them 

 have found the path that leads through the Valley 

 of the Shadow. Almost the last words of one of thesi 



