A MOUNTAIN-SIDE RAMBLE. 181 



boots, soaked through and through as they 

 were, made very grateful music striking 

 along the gravel. And after supper, while 

 walking back and forth upon the piazza, in 

 all the luxury of slippers and a winter over- 

 coat, I turned more than once from the 

 glories of the sunset to gaze upon the black 

 slope of Lafayette, thinking within myself 

 how much less comfortable I should be up 

 yonder in the depths of the forest, so dark 

 and wet, without company, without fire, 

 without overcoat, and without supper. Af- 

 ter all, mere animal comfort is not to be 

 despised. Let us be thankful, I said, for 

 the good things of life, of no matter what 

 grade ; yes, though they be only a change 

 of clothing and a summer hotel. 



It was laughable how my quiet ramble 

 had turned out. My friend, the red-eyed 

 vireo, may or may not have stuck to his 

 text ; but if he had seen me in the midst 

 of my retreat, dashing through the bushes 

 and clambering over the fallen trees, he 

 certainly never would have guessed mine. 

 " Consider the lilies," indeed ! He was 

 more likely to think of a familiar Old Tes- 

 tament scripture: "The wicked flee when 

 no man pursueth." 



