it with a sod of grass the size of the bottom of the cage, to make the poor bird feel as though it were at home on its native meadow,—­a meadow perhaps a foot or at most two feet square.  Again and again it would try to hover over that miniature meadow from its miniature sky just underneath the top of the cage.  At last, conscience-stricken, we carried the beloved prisoner to the meadow west of Dunbar where it was born, and, blessing its sweet heart, bravely set it free, and our exceeding great reward was to see it fly and sing in the sky.

In the winter, when there was but little doing in the fields, we organized running-matches.  A dozen or so of us would start out on races that were simply tests of endurance, running on and on along a public road over the breezy hills like hounds, without stopping or getting tired.  The only serious trouble we ever felt in these long races was an occasional stitch in our sides.  One of the boys started the story that sucking raw eggs was a sure cure for the stitches.  We had hens in our back yard, and on the next Saturday we managed to swallow a couple of eggs apiece, a disgusting job, but we would do almost anything to mend our speed, and as soon as we could get away after taking the cure we set out on a ten or twenty mile run to prove its worth.  We thought nothing of running right ahead ten or a dozen miles before turning back; for we knew nothing about taking time by the sun, and none of us had a watch in those days.  Indeed, we never cared about time until it began to get dark.  Then we thought of home and the thrashing that awaited us.  Late or early, the thrashing was sure, unless father happened to be away.  If he was expected to return soon, mother made haste to get us to bed before his arrival.  We escaped the thrashing next morning, for father never felt like thrashing us in cold blood on the calm holy Sabbath.  But no punishment, however sure and severe, was of any avail against the attraction of the fields and woods.  It had other uses, developing memory, etc., but in keeping us at home it was of no use at all.  Wildness was ever sounding in our ears, and Nature saw to it that besides school lessons and church lessons some of her own lessons should be learned, perhaps with a view to the time when we should be called to wander in wildness to our heart’s content.  Oh, the blessed enchantment of those Saturday runaways in the prime of the spring!  How our young wondering eyes reveled in the sunny, breezy glory of the hills and the sky, every particle of us thrilling and tingling with the bees and glad birds and glad streams!  Kings may be blessed; we were glorious, we were free,—­school cares and scoldings, heart thrashings and flesh thrashings alike, were forgotten in the fullness of Nature’s glad wildness.  These were my first excursions,—­the beginnings of lifelong wanderings.

II

A NEW WORLD

    Stories of America—­Glorious News—­Crossing the Atlantic—­The
    New Home—­A Baptism in Nature—­New Birds—­The Adventures of
    Watch—­Scotch Correction—­Marauding Indians.