158 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



meadows, and the path leading thereto are all 

 before me, and I see with a clearer vision and 

 renewed delight that which has been before me 

 daily for these many years. 



These many years ! There could not be a 

 more unfortunate phrase come to mind, unless 

 we desire to invite blue devils. Every hero of 

 my childhood has passed away and I am classed 

 among old folks. It is hard to realize, and out 

 of doors I quite forget it. Not so before the 

 open fire. Every flame is the epitome of an ill- 

 spent year. Every sudden brightening of the 

 room as a clearer light springs from the fire- 

 place is to me the vivid recollection of blunder- 

 ing days. It is so easy, afterwards, to see where 

 we were groping and stumbling in the dark, 

 and why. Light and the need of it do not 

 always walk hand in hand. The glowing back- 

 log is one long panorama of the past, and why 

 the pleasures of other days keep in the back- 

 ground is a puzzle to me. I cannot force them 

 into prominence. Blue devils have the upper 

 hand to-night, and have had these many years. 



These many years ! The victim of blue 

 devils is a willing one. I will be gay to-night 



