New Walks in Old Ways 



were meant to serve us; and happy 

 are those who have not allowed a love 

 for either one to rob them of the power 

 to find something good in the other. 

 I find fault with those only who can 

 go crazy about "jazz," and yet never 

 think of stopping to listen to a blue- 

 jay's cry or to follow the fitful twink- 

 ling of a firefly on a summer night. 



It is true that there is splendor in- 

 describable and mystery in the dawn, 

 and poetry a-plenty in the sunset. 

 There is a real joy in the teeming 

 life of forest, field and stream all 

 through the long, bright summer days. 

 There are strange, weird witcheries in 

 the moonlight, and thrills in thunder- 

 storms, but the peace that passeth all 

 understanding you will find in the out- 

 of-door world on a moonless night in 

 June. If you are quite alone, there 

 will be absolutely nothing to come 

 between yourself and Nature at her 

 best. If you are in the country and 

 will go outside, and lose yourself even 

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