AN OUTDOOR LESSON 



79 





through the blur of the storm. The street was 

 empty. 



I slipped into my coat and went out; not even 

 policeman was in sight. Only the whirling sheets of! 

 rain, only the wild sounds of the wind were with* 

 me. The lights flared, but only to fill the streets' 

 with fantastic shadows and to open up a yawning 

 cavern in every deep, dark doorway. 



Keeping in the lee of the shuttered buildings, I- 

 made my way to the sparrow roost. I shall nevei 

 forget the sight ! Not a sparrow had left his perch, 

 but every bird had now turned, facing the wind j 

 breasting the wind, I should say ; for every h< 

 was under a wing, as near as I could make out, an< 

 every breast was toward the storm. Here, on the! 

 limbs, as close as beads on a string, they clung and 

 rocked in the arms of the wind, every one with his 

 feathers tight to his body, his tail lying out flat on| 

 the storm. 



Now there is the outdoor lesson I learned, and! 

 that is how I learned it. And what was the lesson ? 

 Why, this : that you are not shut away from Natui 

 even in the heart of a great city ; that the out oi 

 doors lies very close about you, as you hurry down\ 

 a crowded city street. 







