THE NATURALIST DEVELOPING. 63 



lisions, out of Dream-land into the Real, I waked into a lusty 

 sympathy •with, its stern and boisterous elements. The hardy 

 spirit that had joyed before to wrestle in isolation with the 

 unhoused wild conditions of mere nature, learned now to cope 

 with turbulent passions amidst lawless peers — to feel new 

 'exultings in an emulous strife with my own race ! 



Ah, then came the glorious time of most ambitious feats ! 

 The spirit of rivalry once aroused, to what superb extreme 

 would not the extravagant energies be hurled in their fierce 

 liist of eminence ! What feats of incredible audacity and 

 hysterical endurance ! 



The pale and rigid wrestler, writhing with a stouter foe — 

 the desperate runner straiuing at a distant goal, with teeth 

 clenched, lest he should pant and fall — the climber, taunted 

 to a perilous feat, swinging some fearful gap, with flying 

 bound, from limb to limb at dizziest height — the swimmer, 

 breasting swoUen torrents with blue limbs, beating vainly to 

 advance — these were my playmates now in reckless emula- 

 tion ! When Saturday came, and in trembling eagerness we 

 girded up our loins to meet our freedom, and scattered ia 

 hurrying troops over -the rough hills and away to seek adven- 

 ture for this happy time, how dauntless and how strong were 

 we ! Dangers we loved for danger's sake, and shouted for 

 the joy to meet them. 



Those holiday hours were indeed precious fragments from 

 the Nomad's Dream of Paradise, we had time to snatch, fresh 

 with the sparkle of dew and sunshine on them, during those 

 cloudy times of irksome servitude — and how we reveled in 

 them when they came ! A year of enjoyment was crowded 

 through those fast minutes into the day. 



Away with the rising sun to the " Bottomless Spring" Mill 

 Pond, six miles off! — in bare feet — with jackets slung over 

 arms, and fishing lines in pockets, we pattered along the 

 bridle-path at the long swinging gait of an Indian runner — 

 never pausing, in our merry chattering, for breath, since such 



