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In Qi/e5l of 

 ^Waptonk 

 'ffieWfld 





they glided to an open spot on the bank to 

 preen and gabble softly ; while the big parent 

 birds, their own preening finished as they 

 watched the play of their little ones, went 

 from one to another, rubbing them tenderly 

 with their white cheeks, chattering over each 

 one in turn, and in twenty little indescribable 

 ways showing their fondness — their gladness 

 also that the long good day was done and 

 they were safe at home once more. 



Perhaps this was all imagination ; but, 

 even so, a man must look in his heart, not 

 in the psychologies or natural histories, if 

 he would understand half of what the Wood 

 Folk are doing. Here before my eyes was 

 a little family that had come back in the 

 sunset, after much wandering and some dan- 

 ger, to the one spot in the great wilderness 

 that they knew well, where life began for 

 the goslings, and where each familiar thing 

 seemed to welcome them and make them 

 ^..wuu..*-* feel at home. Over them 

 :>-^» stood the parents, 

 strong and watchful 

 against the world, but 



<~s 



