CHAPTER XIV. 

 A LINE A DAY. 



WHEN we first conceived the happy idea of entering upon a 

 country life, a dear friend gave me a Line-a-Day Book. 

 Every one knows it blank leaves, a kind of diary, but with the 

 pages dated for five years. For any one contemplating such an 

 experience as ours, this little book should be enrolled among the 

 necessities. When I look at its pages a series of half -formed pic- 

 tures floats across my vision, and each day brings a story to my mind. 

 In mine I noted the first and last appearance of the flowers and 

 the vegetables, and when they were at their best. I also set down 

 the coming and going of the different birds, with something of their 

 habits, as I saw them. That first summer every feathered creature 

 was to me a bird and nothing more; the only one I knew with 

 absolute certainty was that wretched imitation, the English spar- 

 row. How many years I had wasted learning the languages 

 of mankind, for instance! Here was the whole bird-world 

 to explore! 



Some one has said: "It is the acquiring of knowledge, not 



the knowledge acquired, that adds to our happiness." It may be 



214 



