An October Outing. 161 



river-shore, was cut down at last to make room 

 for improvements ! Strange as it may seem, I 

 have known an old tree to be cut down because 

 the vacant space was considered an improve- 

 ment. If the lower animals had been such 

 fools as some men are, evolution would never 

 have reached to the human species. If trees, 

 when burning, would only sing a swan-song as 

 they turn to ashes ! Something akin to this 

 once happened. I placed a gnarly root on the 

 fire, and while watching, in a dreamy way, the 

 flames play about it, there was a sudden snapping 

 and hissing that roused me, and just in time. 

 The root at one point opened and untwisted 

 and a dull gray object was exposed. Warped, 

 blackened, and gaping wide, it proved to be a 

 pewter snuff-box, in which was a many-folded 

 paper. This defied all my efforts to save it ; but 

 I have the box still, and how often I have won- 

 dered as to its history ! What a splendid basis 

 for a story might have been recorded on that 

 folded paper, for it was covered with writing ! 



The world is welcome to anthracite or cannel 

 glowing in the cheerful grate, give me my 

 andirons and a chunk of wood. 



