iv FAMILIAR FEATURES OF THE ROADSIDE. 



finally — we must read the next guideboard, for that 



tells where the end is — " To town," just the 



place we wish to get out of, so we can see some- 

 thing. 



Yes, see something else besides brick walls and 

 stone pavements, and hear something different from 

 the ceaseless din of the busy, restless town. How 

 delightful to hear and know the voice of every bird, 

 and to see and know the face of every flower, as we 

 pass over the highway which crosses the open fields ! 

 We know the whistle of the locomotive, but we do 

 not recognize the whistle of the peeping hyla in 

 spring. We may know the chirp of the English 

 sparrow, but the voice of the Peabody bird, his 

 American cousin, is an unfamiliar one. There is 

 yarrow, tansy, thorn apple, and ^vild carrot in every 

 empty lot within the city limits ; all these we can 

 name, although each is a tramp from the old coun- 

 try, but our own dainty pipsissewa and twin flower 

 are strange, new characters. It is well that there is 

 much for some of us to learn. 



Fortunately, there are extremely few who know 

 every wild flower and who can name every shrub 

 by its leaf, and every bird, frog, cricket, and grass- 

 hopper by his song. If there were such a man, how 

 intolercihly wise he would be ! The world is wide, 

 and creation is infinite ; we should not expect to 



