imagine the quick thrust of the poisoned dag- 

 ger, the sudden paralysis of his prey, its seizure 

 and the quick journey through the air to the 

 insect's nest. I know what the rest of the 

 story will likely be. 



This little flower that we crush as we sit 

 down is an acquaintance of mine. My com- 

 panion picks a bunch, smells it with pleasure, 

 puts it in his buttonhole and dismisses it with 



''pretty, isn't it " But I know what that spur 

 is for, filled with nectar and why it has those 

 delicate converging lines in its throat. I know 

 the little gauzy winged visitor that it welcomes 

 because it is such an important factor in its 

 life. 



To me the fields are full of voices. Each 

 flower has a charming story, each fluttering 

 insect its fairy tale. A walk is full of de- 

 light, of mysteries and new problems. The 

 whole landscape speaks to me. Familiar since 

 childhood it is yet ever new. The encircling 

 horizon line, broken by hazy silhouetted peaks ; 

 the nearer wooded hills, the cloud shadows 

 that play among them ; the cleared land check- 

 ered with itsvaryingharvest; the near-by brook 

 gurgling among the tangled ferns and flow- 

 ers; the bird song whistled from the bough- 

 tip; all are sources of exquisite pleasure. 

 Nature study is a revealer. It adds a third 

 dimension to the landscape. It delves below 

 the surface to foundations. To the thoughtful 

 man the outstretched view is not alone a beau- 

 tiful prospect. It is a voice from the past and 

 speaks of history as eventful as do the care- 

 wrought furrows of the human face. 



284 



