In Apathetic August 47 



not all the insefts of a summer day ever filled 

 a landscape with life. Something more sub- 

 stantial for the earlier courses of a rambler's 

 feast of sight-seeing is called for, some bird 

 or beast that can fill a weightier part. I had 

 seen a brown mink, but his was too brief a 

 stay ; but what was needed came in all-suffi- 

 cient fulness when a troop of great blue 

 herons settled near by. I shouted and ges- 

 ticulated until they flew again. Their star- 

 tled antics in the air are always such an 

 improvement over their indifferent pose 

 when standing on the ground. These birds 

 are too dignified for my fancy. They, too, 

 forcibly remind me of a class of men that I 

 never meet but I endeavor to disconcert 

 them. To upset dignity is a delightful pas- 

 time, especially when this dignity is an ill- 

 fitting assumption, as is so generally the case. 

 Therefore it is I am moved to throw stones 

 at standing herons, that I may watch them 

 gradually disentangle their wings and legs in 

 the upper air. But, when settled down to 

 steady, purposeful flight, these birds add a 

 splendid feature to the meadow landscape. 

 A little more vim on our part; a few miles 

 more of tramping ; earlier hours and a deal 



