II 



WILD LIFE ABOUT MY CABIN 



FRIENDS have often asked me why I turned 

 my back upon the Hudson and retreated into 

 the wilderness. Well, I do not call it a retreat ; I call 

 it a withdrawal, a retirement, the taking up of a new 

 position to renew the attack, it may be, more vigor- 

 ously than ever. It is not always easy to give rea- 

 sons. There are reasons within reasons,^ and often 

 no reasons at all that we are aware of. 



To a countryman like myself, not bom to a great 

 river or an extensive water- view, these things, I think, 

 grow wearisome after a time. He becomes surfeited 

 with a beauty that is aUen to him . He longs for some- 

 thing more homely, private, and secluded. Scenery 

 may be too fine or too grand and imposing for one's 

 daily and hourly view. It tires after a while. It de- 

 mands a mood that comes to you only at intervals. 

 Hence it is never wise to build your house on the 

 most ambitious spot in the landscape. Rather seek 

 out a more humble and secluded nook or comer, 

 which you can fill and warm with your domestic and 

 home instincts and affections. In some things the 

 half is often more satisfying than the whole. A 

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