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 
lust of eminence! What feats of meredible audacity and 
hysterical endurance ! 
The pale and rigid wrestler, writhing with a stouter foe— 
the desperate runner straining 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 swollen 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 in 
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 
pbridle-path at the long swinging gait of an Indian runner— 
never pausing, in our merry chattering, for breath, since such 
