RAMBLES OF A CANADIAN 

 NATURALIST 



AN OPENING WORD 



Little straggling patches of shrubbery and lingering 

 trees that hide timidly in the shadow of a great city, 

 streams destined for imprisonment in long dungeons 

 beneath the paved and crowded streets, marshes 

 striving in richness of verdure to convert each year's 

 decay into new and healthy life, all tempt the rambler 

 to push his way about and linger over the intricate 

 and changing panorama. 



The few miles that bound a morning's ramble seem 

 so limited and circumscribing, and yet so vast — so 

 crowded with an infinitude of nature's activities. 

 Let us look, let us listen, let us breathe the enriched 

 air. Myriad forms of the mystery of life crowd upon 

 the senses made keen by the silence. Rambles merge 

 imperceptibly into ramblings, and the Uttle clumps 

 of brushwood seem peopled with the wild things that 

 have long since taken their departure to the secluded 

 shades of the distant and retreating wilderness. 



This is not that blending of fact and fancy which 



A 



