It was not
an impressive home-coming; it was to assume burdens rather than
to receive congratulations; it was to bow my head rather than to
lift it up. Out of the golden dreams of youth had come cares and
responsibilities. But doubtless it was best so. The love that
brought me back to the old home year after year, that made me
willing to serve my family, and that invested my native hills
with such a charm, was the best kind of riches after all.
As a youth I never went to Sunday-school, and I was not often
seen inside the church. My Sundays were spent rather roaming
in the woods and fields, or climbing to "Old Clump," or, in summer,
following the streams and swimming in the pools. Occasionally I
went fishing, though this was to incur parental displeasure--unless
I brought home some fine trout, in which case the displeasure was
much tempered. I think this Sunday-school in the woods and fields
was, in my case, best. It has always seemed, and still seems, as
if I could be a little more intimate with Nature on Sunday than
on a week-day; our relations were and are more ideal, a different
spirit is abroad, the spirit of holiday and not of work, and I
could in youth, and can now, abandon myself to the wild life about
me more fully and more joyously on that day than on any other.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136