THE UPL.\NDS IN WINTER 



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Give me the feel of the dull on my checks 

 And the glow and the glory within F' 



The Eskimos would call my hill-to]) on the sea- 

 shore anoatok — the wind-loved spot. The sound 

 of the winds hurrying by, the tone constantly 

 changing is one of the pleasures of life, too little 

 appreciated. In fact, most people complain of it 

 and say they are wearied and all unstrung by it. 

 It may be that this is a habit of mind that goes 

 back to the time when our savage ancestors, poorly 

 clad and housed, feeling the dire effects of the 

 wind and of the struggle against it, endowed it 

 with fierce and diabolical characteristics. An op- 

 posite habit of mind, one of joy, of pleasure and 

 of appreciation of the varied sounds of the wind 

 is worth cultivation. 



''Long ago was I friends with the wind ; J am 

 friends with it yet.'' 



My usual route from the town to my house in 

 winter is by an old road which leads north of 

 Heart-break Hill and crosses Labor-in-vain Creek 

 near its junction with the Ipswich River. I have 



