A SHADOW 245 
have whirled away like snowbirds, and the little 
pool sleeps motionless beneath the cheerful 
wintry sun. Who but must see how gradually 
the joyous life of the animal rises through 
childhood into man, — since the soaring gnats, 
the glancing fishes, the sliding seals are all re- 
presented in this mob of half-grown boyhood 
just released from school. 
If I were to choose among all gifts and 
qualities that which, on the whole, makes life 
pleasantest, I should select the love of children. 
No circumstance can render this world wholly 
a solitude to one who has that possession. It 
is a freemasonry. Wherever one goes, there 
are the little brethren and sisters of the mystic 
tie. No diversity of race or tongue makes 
much difference. A smile speaks the universal 
language. “If I value myself on anything,” 
said the lonely Hawthorne, “it is on having 
a smile that children love.’ They are such 
prompt little beings ; they require so little pre- 
lude; hearts are won in two minutes, at that 
frank period, and so long as you are true to 
them they will be true to you. They need no 
argument, no bribery. They have a hearty ap- 
petite for gifts, no doubt, but it is not for these 
that they love the giver. Take the wealth of 
the world and lavish it with counterfeited af- 
fection: I will win all the children’s hearts 
