A HEKMIT FOR THE DA Y. 



233 



The best means of realizing what others 

 have enjoyed or suffered is to taste of their ex- 

 perience. I know of hermits from hearsay only, 

 and I wished to test the accuracy of what I had 

 heard and read concerning them. Pleased with 

 the novelty of my quick-laid scheme, I renounced 

 the world at midnight, and, laden with a blanket 

 and provisions, started long before sunrise for a 

 hollow sycamore miles deep in a lonely swamp. 

 Of what I was to do when I reached the pro- 

 posed goal I had no idea. The one controlling 

 purpose was to get, not out of the world, but on 

 one of its edges. Trudging half-heartedly along 

 the silence of midnight clogs one's energy I 

 reached before dawn the confines of that lonely 

 swamp. As seen by the dim light of the drow r sy 

 stars, there was little to tempt me to enter, 

 although the now scarcely discerned wood road 

 that crossed it was familiar enough. What if 

 there was no real danger (and he is a coward 

 who turns from an imaginary foe) still the im- 

 agination persists in peopling a forest with most 

 strange shapes shapes at which one shudders ; 

 and yet, contradictory as we are, we give no 

 heed to hosts of creatures daily about us that 

 are far more marvelous. If I had any purpose 

 whatever in this unusual outing, it was to study 

 wild life; and now, because the dry twigs 

 cracked loudly and the chafing branches over- 



