THE JOYFUL BIRDS 15 



imagine the " little people " at home in such 

 a nook, and it held a salutary lesson, too, for 

 restless and dissatisfied mortals, if one had 

 eyes to see. 



In this nook were passed many perfect 

 morning hours, when, though not a breath 

 stirred the leaves, it was delightfully cool 

 and fresh, as if the whole earth were newly 

 created. Not a soul was in sight, the whole 

 green world was mine alone. I felt myself 

 " akin to everything that grows," akin to 

 the dear birds shouting their morning hymns, 

 to the dear " man-bodied trees," to the con- 

 tented little plants, I realized how truly 

 we are all one, down to the grass under our 

 heedless feet. 



One morning I was passing through an 

 unfrequented path in the Woods, when, hear- 

 ing crossbill song quite near> I looked about 

 for the singers. There on one side, in a little 

 pool left by a recent rain, were two of the 

 family at their bath, singing as usual. For 

 these birds are so full of joy they sing when 

 they eat, when they play, when they watch 

 me, and as I now saw, when they bathe. 

 They were plainly the young of the year, 



