234 BIRD PARADISE 



daed tones of the innumerable insects and worms 

 safely housed for the winter. Down the glen the 

 brook went its way, telling the same old story 

 that it was telling in my boyhood sixty years 

 ago. The great hemlocks, dark and solemn, did 

 not seem a day older than when I first knew 

 them. Several of them told me of the days long 

 since passed and of the crows' nests to which we 

 clambered with the keen delight of the hunter. 

 The outlook on the eastern side, which I had 

 seen hundreds of times, seemed new, as it does 

 «ach successive time I see it. I cherish the 

 notion that the birds and squirrels enjoy the 

 beautiful view just at their door. It is their 

 privilege to enjoy it and it does the parson good 

 to think they do — anyway it does no harm to en- 

 tertain the notion. Part of the way of under- 

 standing the birds and animals is by the way of 

 misunderstanding. Browning says, " Through 

 the path of mistakes we reach the highway of 

 life," and if the principle be a good one I like to 

 apply it broadly. I came out of the wood temple 

 by its southern gate where, sitting on the old 

 crooked fence, I mused of the facility with which 

 Mother Nature cleans and readorns her great 

 house. She commands the rains and frost, the 

 winds and sunshine, puts them all to work and 



