CHAPTER VI. 



JUNE. 



An uninvited townsman followed me to the woods re- 

 cently, and when I sat down at the foot of a favorite tree, 

 asked, " What have we here ? " " Heaven for one," I re- 

 plied, which he construed as meaning the opposite for 

 two. He was right. What a comfort it is to be correctly 

 interpreted ! 



Nature speaks freely to the individual, but seldom ha- 

 rangues a crowd ; and never is she so communicative as in 

 June. It is desirable, therefore, above all other time, to 

 ramble alone, for actual solitude, which I dread, shadows 

 our path only when the chatter of men drowns the 

 weightier croaking of the fi'ogs. 



As May teemed with the noise and bustle of prepara- 

 tion, so June — the preparative work being over — rests and 

 ofEers for contemplation nature finished. The foliage of 

 to-day will not be denser or of deeper tints to-morrow, 

 and whether in upland or in meadow you will find no 

 new birds. Those that came to stay are now busy with 

 their nests ; those that tarried for a while, en route for 

 more northern homes, have long since left us. June is a 

 month of fixed facts, but they are none the less interest- 

 ing because of this. What transpired a year ago, this 

 day or week or month, or even half a century ago, is now 

 being or will be re-enacted. But all was not reported 

 then, and much has been slighted since, so that the dan- 



