MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



to the other in humiliation and amazement: 

 " How wonderful, how marvellous ! There is the 

 bit you had, and here is my portion. I thought it 

 greatest of all, and lo, it is but a single note. 

 But listen to that rapturous strain ! What can it 

 be ? Behold it is the despised fragment that yon- 

 der little one held. Oh ! how clear and true and 

 beautiful is the heavenly music, rid of false flour- 

 ishes, interpreted aright, and each fragment 

 even to the smallest in the very place God 

 planned for it." 



I had fancied that our passing might startle the 

 little feathered sleepers, or that our paths might 

 intersect those of other nocturnal ramblers, but 

 all is still. Here and there through the trees we 

 see the late lights of the town, and over the river 

 we catch meteor-like glimpses of swiftly speeding, 

 brightly lighted trains, but on our path falls no 

 light save that of the stars, and from the intense 

 stillness we might fancy ourselves the only wak- 

 ing creatures in the grove. 



Yet no doubt at this very moment scores of 

 bright, wondering eyes are peering out at us from 

 ivy-vines and sheltering hedges ; from hollow trees 

 and thick evergreens ; and even by the light of the 

 stars we see that this thin covering of snow is 



[90] 



