112 WITH EARTH AND SKY 
No matter. He knows what he cannot do, and 
none the less he will push blithely on and attempt. 
Under the cool night with stars at Indian 
summer dimness we rode. A sweet wind lan- 
guished along the way. The night was voiceless 
save for the song of the high-powered car in which 
we sped, singing that song of happy toil which 
is one of the daily and nightly miracles of toiling 
hearts and toiling hands. When the birds build 
their nests and feed their broods and the nestlings 
are very hungry, then is when the wild birds 
sing their wildest songs. When they do but feed 
themselves they are silent. Singing befits labor 
as wings befit birds. So on we fared like night 
boats upon a kindly sea tossing up and down 
on the waves of the hills instead of waves of the 
water. Our course lay down hill toward a river. 
Our career was undulant, to be sure, as fits all 
mountains, but still downward bound. The Jehu 
voice said “Now, up mountain to the apple 
orchard.” I had been well enough content in 
all reason feeling the dewy night and exchanging 
kisses with remote stars and having goodly 
fellowship with Christian friends with whom I 
am to fellowship in the eternal heavens. Yet at 
that prompt summons we headed off the road 
of our night ride and began to make visible 
ascent by detour truly, as the mountain forbade 
a sixty-horse-power car going straight up. The 
high shoulders of a mountain are on one side 
and pressing close to brush my cheek as I leaned 
