A LOVER OF SOLITUDE 83 



Particularly well fitted for this beautiful 

 work is one naturally gifted with a love of 

 solitude, who can say with the immortal 

 Hosea 



" There 's times when I 'm unsocial as a stone 

 And sort o' suffocate to be alone." 



Not that he need lead a hermit's life, but he 

 should be contented to spend hours or days, 

 or still better, weeks, entirely absorbed in 

 the little lives he is striving to understand. 



I reached this haven of rest one year at 

 the beginning of June, and settled myself in 

 the comfortable old homestead where dwelt 

 only the owner and his wife. For one whole 

 month at least I could count upon idyllic 

 days in exactly the sort of solitude I craved, 

 Nature, birds, freedom from people, yet 

 with the comforts of a home about me. 



" And here, like roses to the sun, 

 My bright days opened one by one." 



My way to the woods was through the 

 orchard, then in the full glory of blossoms. 

 I always passed that fragrant entrance to the 

 world of spruces as unobtrusively as possi- 

 ble, to avoid arousing the interest or awak- 

 ening the suspicion of the robin or song- 



