BIRDS IN A VILLAGE 47 



and cold in the sky ; but the bright impression all 

 things made on him gave him a joy that was perennial. 

 The briony, woodbine, and honeysuckle he had 

 looked on withered in the hedges, but their pre- 

 sentments flourished untouched by frost, as if his 

 warmth sustained and gave them perpetual life ; 

 in that inner magical world of memory the birds 

 still twittered and warbled, each after its kind, and 

 the sun shone everlastingly. But he was living in a 

 fool's paradise, as he discovered by and by when a 

 boy who had been his playmate began to grow thin 

 and pale, and at last fell sick and died. He crept 

 near and watched his dead companion lying motion- 

 less, unbreathing, with a face that was like white 

 clay ; and then, more horrible still, he saw him 

 taken out and put into a grave, and the heavy cold 

 soil cast over him. 



What did this strange and terrible thing mean t 

 Now for the first time he was told that life is ours 

 only for a season ; that we also, like the leaves and 

 flowers, flourish for a while, then fade and perish, 

 and mingle with the dust. The sad knowledge had 

 come too suddenly and in too vivid and dreadful 

 a manner. He could not endure it. Only for a 

 season ! only for a season ! The earth would be 

 green, and the sky blue, and the sun shine bright 

 for ever, and he would not see, not know it ! Struck 

 with anguish at the thought, he stole away out of 



