B44 UPLAND AND MEADOW, 



nature, yet so close together, could not be conceived. 

 Of the two, the marsh or mucky meadow was the more 

 attractive. The dense growth concealed so much that 

 piqued the curiosity. Every unfamiliar sound sug- 

 gested some strange creature, and I anticipated monsters 

 lifting their heads above the reeds, as the sea-serpents 

 sometimes do for the benefit of a favored few. I half- 

 dreamed of monstrous serpents, gigantic turtles, and 

 elephantine batrachians ; recalled the wondrous beasts 

 of tertiary times, and with their images, as restored by 

 the genius of Cope, before me — fell asleep. Perhaps 

 for half an hour; possibly for but a moment, but I can 

 realize, in thought, how finally 1 did come to my proper 

 senses with a bound, as my dreams seemed about to 

 prove true. A booming bittern, that had been napping 

 near by, arose from the marsh with a " barbaric yawp," 

 that shook me with more vigor than the petty earthquake 

 of a week ago. Did that unseen bittern give the turn 

 to my thoughts, by its presence, when I had taken my 

 seat by the edge of the marsh ? Experiences suggestive 

 of such a fact are of so common occurrence that I half 

 believe it. Half believe ; for wholly believing anything 

 we cannot fathom is scarcely a wise thing to do. It is 

 easy to learn, but a task to unlearn, and to reconstruct 

 our modes of thought. 



The flicker lias ceased to be a woodpecker. I found 

 liim to-day running over the closely cropped meadow 

 with as much ease as ever a robin possessed. He was 

 chasing black beetles, and, ever and anon, overturned 

 chips that were likely to harbor them. After a meal of 



