ach day glide, bringing its
own labour, and its own beauty; the gradual lighting up of the hills,
night and the stars, firelight and the coals! To live on so, calmly, far
from the paths of men; and to look at the lives of clouds and insects;
to look deep into the heart of flowers, and see how lovingly the pistil
and the stamens nestle there together; and to see in the thorn-pods how
the little seeds suck their life through the delicate curled-up string,
and how the little embryo sleeps inside! Well, how well, to sit so on
one side taking no part in the world's life; but when great men blossom
into books looking into those flowers also, to see how the world of men
too opens beautifully, leaf after leaf. Ah! life is delicious; well to
live long, and see the darkness breaking, and the day coming! The day
when soul shall not thrust back soul that would come to it; when men
shall not be driven to seek solitude because of the crying-out of their
hearts for love and sympathy. Well to live long and see the new time
breaking. Well to live long; life is sweet, sweet, sweet! In his breast
pocket, where of old the broken slate used to be, there was now a little
dancing shoe of his friend who was sleeping. He could feel it when he
folded his arm tight against his breast; and that was well also. He
drew his hat lower over his eyes and sat so motionless that the chickens
thought he was asleep, and gathered closer around him. One even ventured
to peck at his boot, but he ran away quickly. Tiny, yellow fellow that
he was, he knew that men were dangerous; even sleeping they might
awake. But Waldo did not sleep, and coming back from his sunshiny dream,
stretched out his hand for the tiny thing to mount. But the chicken eyed
the hand, and then ran off to hide under its mother's wing, and from
beneath it it sometimes put out its round head to peep at the great
figure sitting there. Presently its brothers ran off after a little
white moth and it ran out to join them; and when the moth fluttered away
over their heads they stood looking up disappointed, and then ran back
to their mother.

Waldo through his half-closed eyes looked at them. Thinking, fearing,
craving, those tiny sparks of brother life, what were they, so real
there in that old yard on that sunshiny afternoon? A few years--where
would they be? Strange little brother spirits! He stretched his hand
toward them, for his heart went out to them; but not one of the little
creatures cam