300 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



" What's the matter, anyhow, with them fellers 

 from town. They know a heap, but somehow 

 they've missed knowin' it all." That is the 

 whole matter in a nutshell. They miss know- 

 ing it all, and he who would be so far accom- 

 plished no one ever can be or approach it, 

 must give his life as practically to the subject as 

 did my old friend Tommy. He was as much a 

 feature of the meadows as any mink or musk- 

 rat ; ay, as any minnow in the creek. 



It is all very well for the closet student of 

 anatomy and bibliography and the learned ad- 

 vocates of trinomial nomenclature to pose as the 

 guardians of our inferior, amateurish intellects, 

 but they should always remember that they do so 

 by their own appointment, and not feel aggrieved 

 if they are occasionally overlooked, or even 

 asked to stand aside. It is not the geologist 

 who finds the lump of gold, but the fellow with 

 pick and shovel ; the geologist comes later, to 

 tell us how it all came about 



The professional, unfortunately for himself, 

 becomes too theoretical, and, having devised a 

 system, sees through ill-adjusted spectacles. 

 Every straight line is crooked, every crooked 



