BUSINESS AND ROMANCE 315 



"What does it mean to the man of the woods? That I will 

 try to tell you. It means that the deep snow which has mantled 

 hill and valley for five months has melted into brooks and rivu- 

 lets which are plunging and splashing away to find the ocean 

 from whence they came. It means that the thick ice which 

 throughout the long winter has imprisoned the waters of 

 the lakes, is now broken, and the waves, incited by the south 

 wind, are wreaking vengeance by beating it upon the rocks of 

 the northern shore, until, subdued and melted, it returns to be 

 a mere part of the waves again. Instead of the hungry winter 

 howl of the wolf or the whining snarl of the sneaking lynx the 

 air is now filled with happier sounds: ducks are quacking; geese 

 are honking; waveys are cackling as they fly northward; 

 squirrels among the spruce trees chatter noisily; on sandy 

 ridges woodchucks whistle excitedly; back deep in the birch 

 thicket partridges are drumming, and all the woodland is 

 musical with the song of birds. 



"The trees> through whose bare branches the wind all winter 

 has whistled and shrieked, are now sending forth leaves of 

 tender green and the voice of the wind caressing them is 

 softened to a tone as musical as the song of birds. Flowers are 

 springing up, not in the rigid rows or precise squares of a 

 mechanically inclined horticulturist, but surprising one by 

 elbowing themselves out of the narrowest crevices, or peeping 

 bashfully out from behind fallen trees, or clinging almost up- 

 side down to the side of an overhanging cliff. 



"My camp on Rainy Lake faces the south and in front is 

 a little stunted black ash tree, so dwarfed, gnarled, twisted, 

 and homely that it is almost pretty. I refrained from cutting it 

 down because of its attractive deformity. In the springtime, 

 a few years ago, a pair of robins chose it as their nesting place. 

 One bright Sunday morning, as the nest was in course of 

 construction, I was sitting in my doorway watching the pair. 

 The brisk little husband was hurrying toward the nest with a 



