Then, too, I suppose I'll have to choose
between Mrs. Wiggs and Emerson, between the Katzenjammers and
Shakespeare, and between ragtime and grand opera. I am very certain
growing corn gives forth a sound only I can't hear it. If my hearing
were only acute enough I'd hear it and rejoice in it. It is very
trying to miss the sound when I am so certain that it is there. The
birds in my trees understand one another, and yet I can't understand
what they are saying in the least. This simply proves my own
limitations. If I could but know their language, and all the
languages of the cows, the sheep, the horses, and the chickens, what
a good time I could have with them. If my powers of sight and
hearing were increased only tenfold, I'd surely find a different
world about me. Here, again, I can't find the value of _x_, try as I
will.
The disquieting thing about all this is that I do not use to the
utmost the powers I have. I could see many more things than I do if
I'd only use my eyes, and hear things, too, if I'd try more. The
world of nature as it reveals itself to John Burroughs is a thousand
times larger than my world, no doubt, and this fact convicts me of
doing less than my best, and again the jail invites me.
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