A LONG ISLAND MEADOW 



logical senses are sealed. He is alive only to Bot.i, 

 plants. He neither sees nor hears the birds. And, 

 vice versa, when he goes bird-hunting, the green 

 growing things about have no definite existence 

 for him. 



This tendency is natural enough and may easily 

 be carried even to greater lengths. When on the Partial 

 lookout for flowers, it may chance that not only bluulucss 

 some rare bird or brilliant butterfly escapes our 

 notice, but that such plants as do not flower, or 

 as do not bear what we are accustomed to look 

 upon as flowers, fail utterly to arrest our atten- 

 tion. 



Perhaps the reason for this is that we are more 

 apt to notice the things about which we have Our 

 some knowledge, and in this busy world it is a j^SjJ 

 difficult matter to know even a little about many 

 different things. So in our walks abroad we con- 

 centrate our attention upon our own especial 

 hobby, be this flowers or ferns, birds or butter- 

 flies. 



But in such a spot as this, to one who has con- Inadequacy 

 fined himself to a single hobby, there comes a 

 sense of limitation, of painful inadequacy, which 

 spurs him to the resolve to strive after broader 

 knowledge, or, for it is the same thing, broader 

 enjoyment. At least some such experience as 

 this has been mine during the hours I have lately 



