A JOURNEY TO NATURE 



with a spontaneous zest after the frost comes. It 

 drives the gayety of thought ahead of it as it 

 drives the birds. There must be cellars in a 

 man s disposition that ought to be well stored 

 when the cold sets in. Mine had a kind of echo 

 ing emptiness, as if I had put spangles on the 

 shelves instead of potatoes. 



A man does not see the fun of wandering 

 about aimlessly in the face of a northeast twister. 

 I recalled that little nut-brown maid that the 

 Doctor had carried on his shoulder, and who 

 had given him a hug and flown out into the 

 dark like a frightened bird. I pictured him 

 clutching after it as one will after a dream, when 

 he wakes up. 



&quot; We must get back, Doctor,&quot; I said, &quot; there s 

 a big storm brewing.&quot; 



The Doctor looked at me. &quot; Metaphorically 

 or literally ? &quot; he asked. 



&quot; Literally.&quot; 



&quot; I ve been making some inquiries,&quot; he said, 

 &quot;and it isn t an easy matter. We are just eigh 

 teen miles from the railroad and twenty by the 

 highway from Hecuba. It is Hecuba you are 

 thinking about, I suppose.&quot; 



&quot; I am thinking about a lot of things. Waste 

 of time is one of them. I have something seri 

 ous to do. In fact, this frost has given me the 

 blues, and I want to get back.&quot; 



&quot; Egad,&quot; said the Doctor, &quot; it s a good sign. 

 I ve often noticed that the best way to go on is to 

 go back. But it s damnably difficult sometimes. 



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