COMPANIONS OF MY SOLITUDE. 159 



And the bug-hunter wishes that it were but 

 proper to respond in the words of Orlando, " He 

 is drowned in the brook : look but in and you 

 shall see him." 



Still, I do not know whether the curious gazer 

 would then take the hint and have sense enough 

 to understand the bug-hunter's meaning and to 

 respond as Jaques, " There shall I see mine own 

 figure." 



Perhaps, if a bug-hunter could get enough 

 courage, it might be better to say boldly with 

 Jaques, " I thank you for your company, but I 

 had as lief been myself alone." 



Once in a while here one hears a soft sound on 

 the bank above, and, turning, sees a red cow peer- 

 ing down among the grass as if to mildly inquire 

 what is going on. But the cow never makes any 

 critical remarks. That is the best of her. She 

 takes it for granted that the rest of the world are 

 employed in sensible business like herself. She 

 and her kin, with that white goat that occasionally 

 looms between me and the sky, appearing, as I 

 look up this little precipice, like a moving day- 

 constellation, a second Capricornus, are almost 

 the only right-minded people that I have ever met 

 when dredging. The goat is fascinating. Did I 

 not in my youth have so violent an admiration 

 for that animal that a certain article of apparel 

 was commonly designated in our house by the 

 humiliating title of " the goat-dress," inasmuch as 



