In Winter Quarters 



bacon, grown right here at home, as 

 any epicure could covet. And anyone 

 with half-sense knows that thin slices 

 of that, broiled until just approaching 

 the crispy stage, may be eaten with 

 impunity even by babes ! More than all 

 this, however, there remains the really 

 distressing fact that I had to close 

 up Dumbiedykes, and move Novem- 

 ber first into a steam-heated city flat 

 for the winter, and to this I was cer- 

 tainly a conscientious objector. I quit 

 the open country under violent inward 

 protest. That much I certainly admit. 

 There was not sun enough inside those 

 walls, no open fire, and you see if I had 

 only been a Mallard I would not have 

 been compelled to accept surroundings 

 of this sort. This wide wild world 

 would have then been mine; the sky, 

 the sea, the air, the land, my heritage! 

 "Thou shalt not" would not then for 

 me be posted every fifteen feet to force 

 the folding of unfettered wings. But, 

 not being a Mallard yet, my life is not 

 [22] 



