28 The Life Worth Living 



The roads in winter, that stretch through 

 solemn aisles of towering pines, are as beau- 

 tiful to me as the embowered drives of sum- 

 mer. 



I love the ragged winter lines of the creek 

 where the quail shelter in the tall grass at the 

 water's edge ready to cross to the woods if 

 hard pressed. 



The cry of the wild duck and brant and 

 the honk of the goose thrill the heart of the 

 huntsman and call to the sport of kings. 



There is not a day in the calendar from the 

 first of January to the thirty-first of Decem- 

 ber that there is not good fishing or hunting, 

 or both, in Tidewater Virginia. 



On long winter nights we sit beside a roar- 

 ing log fire, read and dream, listen to music, 

 or chat with our kindly neighbours. Our 

 neighbours are never in a hurry. They have 

 more time than money, and spend it more 

 freely. They really live, and we have fallen 

 into their friendly ways. 



