THE WEEK'S OFFERINGS. 57 



accomplished fact. One week, Nature, have 

 I been all the time a devotee to thee! It has 

 not been a week lost, but a week gained a 

 week of my own in which I did that which my 

 mind listed to do only that and nothing more. 

 I have not grown as did Thoreau, while he 

 watched the sumac leaves along the borders of 

 his unfenced wilderness, but I have been con- 

 tent. Odors royal, medleys of the fragrance of 

 the fields, have catered unto me, pennyroyal 

 and peppermint, prickly ash and everlasting, 

 earth odors also of the dewy August morns. 

 Music of many birds has come unto my soul. 

 Sunrises and sunsets, morning stars and clouds 

 in all their varied splendor have I looked upon. 

 The moon ' each night hath bathed me in the 

 glory of her resplendent beams. Unto mother 

 earth have I also tried to do full homage. On 

 her bosom, close to her sod and her mold have 

 I reclined for many a happy hour. Of her 

 have I written. To her is due full honor for 

 the meed of content I have had. 



The young cuckoos have their eyes open to- 

 day, and when I approach they do not raise 

 the head for food as when they were unable to 

 see, but instead huddle close together and utter 

 in unison a low hissing sound. They have seen 

 for the first time a little of that great world 

 which they will occupy for a few short years. 

 As yet they doubtless suppose its horizon to be 



