SWAYING TREE TOPS 



forgetful of the present, I go bouy- 

 antly along the pathways of the past. 



Is it characteristic of human na- 

 ture to see the romance of the past, 

 and not the present? Do we see the 

 glamour of an hour gone only from 

 a distant view? Do we hear the call- 

 ing voices the other side of the hill, 

 or behind us, or around the turning 

 of the road? Were these things to 

 be seen and heard when we were 

 there, only we were too near to see 

 and hear? 



Be that as it may, this autumn 

 morning, when the chill without has 4 

 made necessary the closing of my 

 window and a fire within, there comes 

 to me the call of other days. 



There were those winter days in 

 another clime, not colder than this 



[148] 



