250 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



but to consider for a moment the depth, height, 

 and width of our ignorance even of the garden's 

 gooseberry hedge to effectually cure us of walk- 

 ing with the air of a philosopher in the deep, 

 dark woods. When an oak has whispered all 

 the secrets of the plant world we can hope to 

 ramble understandingly in field or forest, and 

 not before. 



Having entered the woods, the new atmos- 

 phere revives the sluggish senses that have 

 wearied of sunny fields. Appreciation of de- 

 tails takes the place of vague generalization. 

 At this point stands a sentinel tulip-tree, a land- 

 mark for miles around it No human structure 

 commands such instant attention. A procession 

 winding among cathedral pillars is but a tawdry 

 imitation of the vine clinging to its towering 

 trunk, and wheezy music from a loft a sorry 

 echo of the morning breeze. Yet how meagre 

 a congregation has even an aged tree, even one 

 that has sheltered the homestead for generations. 

 Rarely do we see two or three even gathered to 

 consider it, and when such gathering occurs it 

 is not always fit audience though few. When 

 Philander Pointblank, a quaint character of 



