All through his life, he kept his heart unchanged within him-the simple, honest heart of a little child. And ever, throughout his life, the Bush called to him and he heard it.
Day after day he would wander through the deep, fern- grown gullies, and over the ridges crowned with musk and hazel, seeing much that most men never see, harming nothing, loving all. The Bush talked to him as it talks only to those who know and love it-those to whom every stone, every tree, every rustle tells its own story.
Drawn by Nancy Liddelow
"He sought the great rock in the creek. "
The birds and other animals came about him fearlessly; there was something in the grave, happy face that told them he was their friend. So he would live for many days; and it seemed to him that every day taught him more of the great lessons that Nature holds for those who have understanding to read her aright.
He would watch the dawn creep over the tree-tops, tingeing the tender greens with a strange, rosy flush that turned every hanging dewdrop into a flawless gem; seeing, as he lay, the night animals wander past him on their way to rest, while those of the day rose up to greet him with a hundred voices. In the heat of the day, he sought the great rock in the creek, in whose cool hollows, fringed with maidenhair, he could sit and dream strange dreams that the world would never understand. But, at night, when the world sleeps, but the Bush wakes up, came the best time of all. Then it seemed to him that he was most in touch with the ceaseless, invisible life about him; and he would wander through the scrub, smiling gravely, ever and anon, at some bird or animal that flitted by in the moonlight; treading so quietly as not to disturb the very shyest of them all. For to him the Bush had given that peace which comes to one who loves Nature truly; who, from the roar of the world, turns to the hush of the forest, to find rest like a tired child.
Mary Grant Bruce, in Timothy in Bushland
Author.-Mary Grant Bruce, a living Australian writer, has writtenmany charming stories for children, including Dick, From Billabong to London, Glen Eyre, Gray"s Hollow, Jim and Wally, A Little Bush Maid, Mates at Billabong, Norah of Billabong, Possum, The Stone Axe of Burka-mukk, and Timothy in Bushland.
General.-Note the poetical prose; one could almost sing it. Which phrase do you like best? Has the Bush ever talked to you? What did it say? "Nature . . . to read her aright. " Why "her "? What is said to be "the best time of all " in the Bush? What do you think?