THE WOODS IN WINTER. 2 / 



dent. The various features of every visited spot 

 will be remembered ; and the cheery blaze upon 

 the hearth tells us, as it were, the story that 

 could not be read when facing Nature's open 

 page. Some of us inveterate ramblers read more 

 than others, when in the fields, but no one can 

 afford to trust to this alone. To extract the whole 

 truth, the past must be recalled again and again. 

 As I whiled away the time with the tenants 

 of the brook, so I gave heed to every passing 

 bird, and what a strange panorama, as one kind 

 after another flitted by ! The happy association 

 of woods and water here, as it attracted me, 

 drew them to the spot, yet no one loitered long. 

 The busy brown tree-creeper traced the crannies 

 of the wrinkled oaks ; the nuthatches followed, 

 and their complaining squeaks seemed express- 

 ive of disappointment that so little food was to 

 be found. Was this true? Were these little 

 birds really complaining ? It certainly seemed 

 so. But how treacherous is this impression of 

 seeming so ! Too often, I fear, the rambler is 

 content with it and goes his way convinced that 

 what was vaguely apparent was the truth, the 

 whole truth, and nothing more nor less. I hold 

 it probably true that if every bird which found 

 itself too late was disposed to complain, there 

 would be a vast deal more quarreling than actu- 

 ally occurs. How little contention there is in the 



