MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



Now they are but faint specks on the distant 

 horizon, and now, like creatures conjured up to 

 Invite sleep, they fade away in the dreamy dis- 

 tance, and the sky again seems vast, untenanted, 

 and remote. But who can tell how many winged 

 travellers, either silent or too far away for their 

 voices to reach us, have passed our way this very 

 afternoon, all unsuspected by us? Perhaps even 

 as we stood here, giving utterance to our small 

 impressions and opinions, they were looking down 

 upon us from their great, solemn heights. 



What wonderful beings birds are! Earth, 

 tree-tops, and sky are at their service, and, for 

 some of their number, even surging waves make 

 a safe resting-place and deep snows a warm cov- 

 ering. How pitiful and small and labored do 

 even the swiftest and most extensive of our voy- 

 ages seem in comparison with the free, untram- 

 melled journeyings of these " brothers of the 

 air." 



A toilsome ascent of a mountain may open up 

 to us such glorious vistas as our lowland minds 

 never conceived, but what are the views that 

 greet our wondering eyes compared with the 

 sights upon which the winged traveller gazes as 

 he wends his way on his marvellous and momen- 



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