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when behind the dogs come the axe and the gun. So 

 he has grown wary and enduring. lie waits until the 

 snow grows crusty, when without sign, and almost 

 without scent, he can slip forth among the long 

 shadows and prowl to the edge of dawn. 



Skirting the stream out toward the higher back 

 woods, I chanced to spy a bunch of snow in one of 

 the great sour gums that I thought was an old nest. 

 A second look showed me tiny green leaves, then 

 white berries, then mistletoe. 



It was not a surprise, for I had found it here be- 

 fore, — a long, long time before. It was back in my 

 schoolboy days, back beyond those twenty years, that 

 I first stood here under the mistletoe and had my first 

 romance. There was no chandelier, no pretty girl, in 

 that romance, — only a boy, the mistletoe, the giant 

 trees, and the sombre silent swamp. Then there was 

 his discovery, the thrill of deep delight, and the 

 wonder of his knowledge of the strange unnatural 

 plant ! All plants had been plants to him until, one 

 day, he read the life of the mistletoe. But that was 

 English mistletoe ; so the boy's wonder world of 

 plant life was still as far away as Mars, when, ram- 

 bling alone through the swamp along the creek, he 



27 



