. St. Nicholas [serial]. k into the wide De-cember silence, so far it echoed through the forest halls. What ! I exclaimed, turn-ing in my tracks and addressing a small brown-leafed beech. What ! little Hyla, are you still out, with a snow-storm brewing and old St. Nick due here to-morrow night? And then from within the bush, or on the bush, or under the bush, or over the bush, came the an-swer, peep, peep, peep! small and shrill, which dropped into the silence of the woods and stirred it as three small pebbles might drop into the middle ofa smooth wide pond. Not a crow nor a jay nor a chickade
. St. Nicholas [serial]. k into the wide De-cember silence, so far it echoed through the forest halls. What ! I exclaimed, turn-ing in my tracks and addressing a small brown-leafed beech. What ! little Hyla, are you still out, with a snow-storm brewing and old St. Nick due here to-morrow night? And then from within the bush, or on the bush, or under the bush, or over the bush, came the an-swer, peep, peep, peep! small and shrill, which dropped into the silence of the woods and stirred it as three small pebbles might drop into the middle ofa smooth wide pond. Not a crow nor a jay nor a chickadeehad heart enough to cheep. But littleHyla, the tree-toad, was nothing the last week in February, through-out the spring and the hubbub of summer ontill this dreary time, he had been cheerfully,continuously piping. This was his last , peep, peep! he piped in February; peep, peep, peep! he piped in December. Butdid he? He did just that, replies the zoologist, and that only. Not at all, I answer. 459. % TO-DAY I SAW AND HEARD AND FELT THE WORLD ALL GRAY AND HUSHED AND DREARY, AND LITTLE HYLA,- SPEAKING OUT OF THE DEATH AND SILENCE,CALLED CHEER,CHEER,CHEER! What authority have you he asks. You are not a scientist, but merely one ofthose dreaming, half-poet hangers-on in thefields and woods who are forever hearingmore than they hear and seeing more thanthey see. We scientists hear with our ears,see with our eyes, feel with our fingers, and understandwith our brains. Just so, just so,I reply ; and you are aworthy but a pretty stupidset. Little Hyla in February, in June, and inDecember cries peep, peep, peep! to you. Buthis cry to me in February is spring, spring,spring! And in December?—it depends. ForI cannot see Avith my eyes alone, nor hear withmy ears nor feel with my fingers only. To-dayI saw and heard and felt the world all gray andhushed and dreary, and little Hyla, speakingout of the death and silence, called cheer,cheer, cheer! Dallas Lore Sharp. 46
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
