8 WILD SCENES AND SONG-BIKDS. 



that wild music is in vain for us. We can only dream of it 

 as the thirsty Arab dreameth of the palm-trees and the foun- 

 tain and as to 



" How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night !" 



we can only tell when these memories babble to our sleep ! 



To be sure we sometime since did steal an hour from our 

 duties, and run away like a truant school-boy to the country, 

 emulous of the odors of new-mown hay upon our garments ! 



"We caught this infection of sweetness while " loafing" on 

 the shady side of the ricks out in the shorn meadows, with 

 eyes half closed, listening to Bobby Linkum chirruping his 

 saucy thoughts about the despoliation of his forage-grounds. 



He is a very chatty, gay, abusive fellow, Eobert Linkum 

 is. The utile et dulci he has no respect for. What matter is 

 it to him that grass smells sweeter for being cut, and that it 

 makes the heavy wains go creaking to the barns, and the far- 

 mer's canvas pocket heavier too, when all this curtails his 

 lineal prerogative of bugs and butterflies puts him to shifts 

 for " findings" to keep that wide-mouthed crew of little 

 brawlers quiet he has hid yonder in the shrubs ? 



One can see plainly he does not like it. He comes flutter 

 ing sideways, chattering, raving and scolding, just above our 

 heads, his eye cocked downwards, with a connoisseuring 

 look, at our proceeding. 



He evidently thinks we are an awkward set of fellows, be- 

 sides being mischief-doers. 



It does gladden one's eyes to see these waving lakes of 

 green heavy and deep the rich promise of a golden prime. 

 And then the fruits ! The pregnant winds from the dew- 

 dropping south, since Lang Syne, have hardly been so prod- 

 igal; the ruddy flushing from under the green leaves of 

 shiny clusters, deepens all the air, and clothes the trees right 

 royally. 



We came back half mourning at our lot being cast amidst 

 the stifling streets of Gotham, and more than half envying 



