IparaMse Circle 



ular principle. It is a bird-theater, where 

 comedies, tragedies, farces, and " varieties " 

 are mixed together with song attended by 

 discordant bickerings. I usually reach 

 it early in the morning, of spring days, 

 dallying there awhile before passing forth 

 upon the marsh for a shooting-bout with 

 myself. 



I wonder, and yet do not so greatly care, 

 what the sportsman with the gun thinks 

 of me and my method of sport. Like all 

 isolated men, I am a trifle self-conscious. 

 My bow and my book further enforce the 

 influence of radical departure from the 

 prevaihng — I might say the universal — 

 modern way of manly recreation by field 

 and flood. But what of it? Why should 

 not I get my physical exercise and mental 

 refreshment as well with my bow and my 

 book as yonder gentleman with his gun 

 and his dog? Perhaps the very fact that 

 I offer to myself this question presupposes 

 that I am somewhat uneasy about my 

 standing. Granted. The bird is uneasy 

 on the bough ; the hare feels an endless 

 insecurity; all wild things start and flit, 

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