What an insignificant trifle can sometimes put the whole man back in
tune!
Full of thought, I was walking one day along the highway.
Heavy forebodings oppressed my breast; melancholy seized hold upon me.
I raised my head.... Before me, between two rows of lofty poplars, the
road stretched out into the distance.
Across it, across that same road, a whole little family of sparrows was
hopping, hopping boldly, amusingly, confidently!
One of them in particular fairly set his wings akimbo, thrusting out his
crop, and twittering audaciously, as though the very devil was no match
for him! A conqueror--and that is all there is to be said.
But in the meantime, high up in the sky, was soaring a hawk who,
possibly, was fated to devour precisely that same conqueror.
I looked, laughed, shook myself--and the melancholy thoughts instantly
fled. I felt daring, courage, a desire for life.
And let _my_ hawk soar over _me_ if he will....
"We will still fight on, devil take it!"
November, 1879.