The Chorus of the Forest 



But the real fence inclosing the forest was a 

 hedge of dogwood, spicebrush, haw, hazel, scrub 

 oak, maple, and elm bushes. At bloom time it 

 must have been outlined in snowy flowers; now 

 nuts and berries were growing, and all were inter- 

 laced and made impenetrable by woodbine, wild- 

 grape, clematis, and other stoutly growing vines. 



At first we could not see the gateway, but after 

 a little searching it was discovered. Once found, 

 it lay clear and open to all. The posts were slen- The 

 der, mastlike trunks shooting skyward; outside Gateway 

 deep golden sunshine you almost thought you could 

 handle as fabric, inside merely a few steps to forest 

 darkness. Near the gateway a tiny tree was wag- 

 ing its battle to reach the sky, and a little far- 

 ther a dead one w r as compelled to decay leaning 

 against its fellows, for they were so numerous it 

 could not find space to lie down and rest in peace. 

 This explained at once that there would be no logs. 

 All the trees would lodge in falling, and decay in 

 that position, and their bark and fiber would help 

 to make uncertain walking. 



At the gate is the place to pause and consider. 

 The forest issues an universal invitation, but few 

 there be who are happy in accepting its hospitality. 

 If you carry a timid heart take it to the fields, 

 where you can see your path before you and fa- 

 miliar sounds fall on your ears. If you carry a 

 sad heart the forest is not for you. Xature places 

 31 



