LONGINGS OP THE DREAMER. 39 



leaves of the spotted spurge are blotched near 

 the center with a spot of brownish-red, while 

 those of most of the other species in age be- 

 come a handsome reddish purple. The flowers 

 of all are small and inconspicuous but the form 

 and foliage are most pleasing. Lowly para- 

 sites are they, yet well worthy the notice of 

 him who steps on or over them as he wends his 

 way along the pathways of these open woods. 



What longings which cannot be put into 

 words come at times into the soul of the 

 dreamer. Up there or far beyond is some 

 height, its altitude unmeasurable, or some 

 island, its area and boundaries unknown and 

 unknowable. To that height he would climb, 

 o'er that island he would rule. Both are things 

 uncanny which he cannot grasp. They are the 

 nuclei of his day dreams, weird unfashioned 

 will-o'-the-wisps or phantoms which' come often 

 to him who is not content with his daily task. 

 Were they real and his a soul of perseverance 

 and self reliance he would climb to the height 

 in an airship of his own invention or sail to and 

 conquer the island in a sloop the cut of whose 

 jib and foresail was of a pattern unknown to 

 man. But to the dreamer they will ever exist, 

 unreal, unconquered and unknown. Yet for 

 some they may serve as inspirations or lode- 

 stars, leading on to real achievements, which 

 will bring renown unthought of, undreamed of, 



