Forest leaves . f life, even while death stood over him. The perpetualboy was ever eager for things, new things to see and know, and beforethe Adirondack winter wore out he was planning those wondrous voy-ages among the summer isles of the South Sea. Few visitors came to Bakers. The wilderness folk seemed unawarethat a prince had come to them, but the little house on the hill now seesthousands of pilgrims, and the smoke-stained fireplace is a literary shrine. —C. W. C. ^ Life is made up not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little thingsin which smiles and kindnesses and small obligations,
Forest leaves . f life, even while death stood over him. The perpetualboy was ever eager for things, new things to see and know, and beforethe Adirondack winter wore out he was planning those wondrous voy-ages among the summer isles of the South Sea. Few visitors came to Bakers. The wilderness folk seemed unawarethat a prince had come to them, but the little house on the hill now seesthousands of pilgrims, and the smoke-stained fireplace is a literary shrine. —C. W. C. ^ Life is made up not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little thingsin which smiles and kindnesses and small obligations, given habitually,are what win and preserve the heart.—Examiner. FOREST LEAVES 17 The Adirondacks. By Bingham Thoburn Wilson. When God first made the Moon, the Stars, the Sun, And then the Earth, and called it all Well done! He did not speak those words until His hand Had moved and formed and made this wondrous land, Embossing it with rill and brooklet fair— Then gave this playground to His childrens Such be that care, oh man! Remember here Lies the enchanted realm of all thats dear; Xor let the vandal desecrate its sod, But keep this heritage—a gift from God— The Nations boast, the States most noble pride, Where health, and peace, and happiness abide. —Woods and Waters. 18 FOREST LEAVES The Old Days In The Woods. Albany, N. Y., September, 1903. My Dear Sister Mary—The title of the quarterly which youpropose publishing in the interest of Sanitarium Gabriels, ForestLeaves, is not only very appropriate but is indeed poetic. To the oldhabitues of the dear old woods, as the late Dr. Romeyn used to callthem, the words bring back fond recollections of the good old times inthe woods in years gone by, and especially to the lovers of the Adiron-dack^, in the midst of which your noble institution is located. I by no means wish it to be understood that1 am growing old (perish the thought), andyet my memory runs back to the spring of1866, when I went to Bartletts on th
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