A BIRD-GAZER AT THE GRAND 

 CANON 



THE bird-gazer is peculiar. This is not 

 spoken of bird-gazers in general, who may 

 be much like other people, for aught we know, 

 but of a certain particular member of the fra- 

 ternity, the adventures of whose mind in the face 

 of one of the undisputed wonders of the world 

 are here to be briefly recounted. 



He is a lover of scenery. At least, he so re- 

 gards himself. As he goes about among his fel- 

 lows, he finds few who spend more time, or seem 

 to experience more delight, in looking at the 

 beauty that surrounds them. He would not rank 

 himself, of course, with the eloquent specialists in 

 this line, — with Wordsworth or Thoreau, to cite 

 two widely dissimilar examples ; but, as compared 

 with the general run of more or less intelligent 

 men, he seldom finds occasion to feel ashamed 

 of himself for anything like indifference to the 

 "goings-on of earth and sky." He is as likely as 

 almost any one he knows to consume a half-hour 

 over a sunset, or to sit a long while under the 

 charm of a Massachusetts meadow or a New 

 Hampshire valley. Common beauty appeals to 

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