veins and make us its own for ever, so that no matter where we go
or how wide we wander in the noisy ways of cities or over the lone
ways of the sea, we shall yet be drawn back to the forest to find
our most enduring kinship."

"I always feel so SATISFIED in the woods," said the Story Girl
dreamily, as we turned in under the low-swinging fir boughs.
"Trees seem such friendly things."

"They are the most friendly things in God's good creation," said
Uncle Blair emphatically. "And it is so easy to live with them.
To hold converse with pines, to whisper secrets with the poplars,
to listen to the tales of old romance that beeches have to tell,
to walk in eloquent silence with self-contained firs, is to learn
what real companionship is. Besides, trees are the same all over
the world. A beech tree on the slopes of the Pyrenees is just
what a beech tree here in these Carlisle woods is; and there used
to be an old pine hereabouts whose twin brother I was well
acquainted with in a dell among the Apennines. Listen to those
squirrels, will you, chattering over yonder. Did you ever hear
such a fuss over nothing? Squirrels are the gossips and busybodies
of the woods; they haven't learned the fine reserve of its other
denizens. But after all, there is a certain shrill friendliness
in their greeting."

"They seem to be scolding us," I said, laughing.

"Oh, they are not half such scolds as they sound," answered Uncle
Blair gaily. "If they would but 'tak a thought and mend ' their
shrew-like ways they would be dear, lovable creatures enough."