24 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
wheedle, too-wheedle, too-wheedle,”’ like a creaking 
wheelbarrow, and then suddenly broke out into the 
flat, harsh “‘Djay, djay, djay”’ which has given the 
silver-and-blue jay its name. 
By the time I had reached home, I decided that it 
was too cold a day to practise law safely. The state 
legislature in their wisdom had already made the day 
a half-holiday. Not to be outdone in generosity, I 
decided to donate my half and make the holiday a 
whole one. Anent this matter of holidays, the 
trouble with most of us is that we are obsessed with 
the importance of our daily work. There are many 
pleasant byways which we plan to come back and 
explore when we have reached the end of the straight, 
steep, and intensely narrow road that leads to 
achievement. The trouble is that there is no return- 
ing. Men die rich, famous, or successful, who have 
never taken the time to companion their children or 
to find their way into the world of the wild-folk 
which lies at their very doors. It was not always so. 
Read in Evelyn’s Diary how for sixty years a great 
man played a great part under three kings and the 
grim Protector, and yet never lost an opportunity 
to refresh his life with bird-songs, hilltops, flower- 
fields, and sky-air. We reach our goal to-day in a 
few desperate years, stripped to the buff like a 
Marathon runner. One can arrive later and not miss 
a thousand little happinesses along the way. 
With similar arguments I convinced myself on that 
day, that it was my duty as an amateur naturalist 
to discover how many birds I could meet between 
