Morpheus so arranged matters
that Leo could study without damage to his father's poems. The books
were marked for a month's study, and Leo's recitations consisted of a
written essay which was to comprise all the knowledge acquired in that
time. Thus writing and spelling were included, and made to do duty for
the higher flights of his mind.
I do not tell how often Leo made his returns, neither do I mention how
many papers Morpheus found no time to examine, but I may urge that Leo's
out-door exercise demanded much attention, and that his father's
excursions in Dream-land were equally exacting. But Leo, though he hated
books, did not hate information. He knew every feathered thing by name
as far as he could see it. He knew every oak and pine and fir and nut
tree as a familiar friend. He knew every rivulet, every ravine, every
rabbit-burrow. The streams seemed to him as melodious as the song-birds,
and the winds had voices. He knew where to find the first blossom of
spring and the latest of autumn, the ripest fruit and most abundant
vines. He could tell just where the nests were and the number of eggs,
whether of the robin or the waterfowl. He knew the sunniest bank and
shadiest dell, the smoothest path, with its carpet of pine-needles and
fringe of fern, or the roughest crag and darkest abyss.
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