WOODLAND PATHS 



is not such. I do not believe pioneer ever 

 stoned a cellar in its depths, and if the 

 Indian set his teepee here it was only 

 in passing. Now and then the harrying 

 hand of man has cut off its greater 

 growth and let the sunlight in on its 

 roots, that the adventitious buds may have 

 a chance, and newer and stronger trunks 

 tower upward eventually, but the shadows 

 that dapple its brown-leaf mold carry no 

 dreams of human domination. 



The vexation of axe and gun, and even 

 the searing scar of flame, are only minor 

 incidents in the great work of the wood, 

 whose ultimate purpose no man knows. 

 We see the rocks disintegrated and the 

 hollows filled with richer soil, that the 

 forest may grow taller and more surely 

 shelter the gentler things of earth. We 

 find it holding back the waters in its cun- 

 ningly contrived bogs, and hiding medic- 

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