A WINTER WALK 207 



a snowstorm sometimes ; the exercise ; the clear- 

 ing out of cobwebs from my brain, and the rout- 

 ing of goblins which love to lurk in cobwebby 

 places, — these were the real objects of this win- 

 ter walk. I shall never again allow myself to be 

 mewed up between walls of brick and mortar for 

 any length of time. The arching tree -tops are 

 temples which call to worship. Their voices and 

 the murmur of the ice-rimmed stream mingle like 

 soft music from a far-off organ. I will go often, 

 and be lifted out of the humdrum of every -day 

 existence. The outdoor world is full of life in 

 winter. To know this life one needs only to be 

 open-eyed and open-hearted; the spirit of winter 

 is ever ready to guide, to cheer and to bless. 



