WOODLAND PATHS 



dwell and the once trodden earth clings 

 tenaciously to the prints of long-vanished 

 feet. Over, their tops to-day the north 

 wind sings his war song, but his failing 

 arrows fall to earth harmless, for golden 

 troops of sunshine roll over the southern 

 rim and fill the space below with quivering 

 delight. 



Just to walk about in this sunshine is a 

 pleasure, and to sit in the pioneer's hollow 

 land and let it flood your marrow is to be 

 thrilled with a primal joy that is the first 

 the race has to remember. It antedates 

 the first man by unknown millions of years. 

 The same sun touched with the same joy 

 the first primordial cell. With the thrill 

 the one quivered into two and thus came 

 the origin of species. 



To-day in such a hollow and under such 

 a sun the pageant of woodland life passed 

 before me, much as it may have passed 



138 



