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 twee, tweet! with what sweet cries and transports of joy they greet the new day. In the glory of the morning all is forgotten, the dark night, the cold and the terrors. If only the birds could teach us the secret of their unalterable faith, through which they are born afresh with every dawning day!

All this merry whistling cheered me up wonderfully, and lying there on my back, I began to whistle too, the same tune; pretty soon from the wood where he was hiding came the cry of the cuckoo. I could lie still no longer, and jumped gaily to my feet; a hare near by followed my example, seeming to laugh at me as he passed; (you know he once split his lip open by too much laughter). Then at last I started off towards home, singing at the top of my lungs. All is good, the sky, the wood. Oh! my friends the world is round, if you can't swim, you will be drowned. Throw open all the windows of your five senses, and let the great earth in. What is the use of sulking because everything does not come your way? The more you sulk, the less you get. I do not suppose that the Duke, the King, or even God Himself, has all the desire of his heart; ought I to groan and struggle, because I cannot exceed the limits set for me? Should I even be better off if I could get