Impressions 



through the books on birds in hope of finding 

 justice done this perfect performer of our 

 woodland choir, but find nothing approaching 

 it. The rose-breasted grosbeak sees the world 

 more sanely than does the thrush. It has no 

 patience with the nonsense of the catbird or the 

 chat. Poet and musician, it gives its thoughts 

 a worthy setting, and never frets us with a jar- 

 ring note. To be glad with its degree of glad- 

 ness is an ideality of life, — for us an unattain- 

 able goal, but an excellent one to keep before 

 us. Ever aiming at the inaccessible, we keep, 

 at least, in the one path, a straight one, and 

 singleness of purpose is excellent, if that pur- 

 pose be worthy. I. forget more of all that I 

 would forget when listening ti. the rose-breasted 

 grosbeak than when I hear the song of any 

 other bird. Nor need one wonder why. It is 

 an exultation over perfect happiness attained. 

 All else that is heard is not without a trace of 

 melancholy or doubt. This alone is the out- 

 pouring of a merry heart, yet weighty with wise 

 thought withal. 



This day our journey never need be long. 

 An old apple-tree is an appropriate goal. When 

 we have fathomed what trunk, branches, leaves, 



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