Christmas Out of Doors. 207 



to be also in all we see. Even the solemn little 

 red owl in the hollow apple-tree looks to-day 

 less wise and more natural and happy, his big 

 eyes reflecting the glow of winterberry and 

 cedar and the green of the fresh grass spread 

 now over the pebbly bed of the rippling brook. 

 Not literally so, perhaps, but seemingly, be- 

 cause, in a happier mood ourselves, our own 

 vision is clearer. We leave dull care behind 

 us, and Nature then always looks kindly on our 

 better selves. She has no patience with de- 

 spondency, which is twin to cowardice, but 

 meets cheerfulness face to face. When the 

 storm comes the Carolina wren raises its voice. 

 Are our activities roused in proportion as the 

 tempest rages ? 



The in-door world to-day has a stronger claim 

 than usual upon us. The coveted outing must 

 be cut short, but better a crowded furlong than 

 an empty mile, and no man has yet seen all 

 that a furlong has to show. Eager to return, 

 yet reluctant to leave the merry field and wood, 

 it is well, perhaps, that Christmas comes but 

 once a year. 



