they. We must appear to them but poor mollusks, 

 as they come and go each year on their way from 

 Patagonia to the Ardtic Circle. In how many 

 States, in what diversity of climes they are at 

 home ! And wherever they may be they get their 

 own living by no one's favor. This prodigious 

 self-reliance affedts one as a species of heroism, 

 whereas it is as unconscious as the falling rain. 



What familiarity with the elements and with 

 natural features of the earth the migrating birds 

 must acquire — with winds and clouds, with moun- 

 tain chains and rivers and coast lines ! They know 

 the landmarks and guide-posts of two continents 

 and can find their own way. The whistle of cur- 

 lew, or the honk of wild geese high in the air, 

 seems a greeting out of the clouds from these cos- 

 mopolites, to us, sitting rooted to the earth be- 

 neath. A flock of wild geese on the wing is no 

 less than an inspiration. When that strong-voiced, 

 stout-hearted company of pioneers pass overhead, 

 our thoughts ascend and sail with them over the 

 roofs of the world. As band after band come into 

 the field of vision — minute glittering specks in 

 the distant blue — to cross the golden sea of the 

 sunset and disappear in the northern twilight, their 



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