man must look like a weak brother, a coddler of himself, ruined by civilization and "modern improvements;" a lubber who would freeze to death where a chickadee bubbles over with the very joy of living.
With weather-braving souls like these Thoreau would associate; and so will I. It is true, what all the moralists have told us, that it is good for a man to keep company with his superiors. Not that in my own case I look for their example and tuition to make me inherently better; it is getting late for that; "nothing that happens after we are twelve counts for very much;" I shall be content if they make me happier. And so much I surely depend upon. Good spirits are contagious. It is the great advantage of keeping a dog, that he has happiness to spare, and gives to his master. So a flock of chickadees, or snowbirds, or kinglets, or tree sparrows, or goldfinches brighten a man's day. He comes away smiling. I will go out now and prove it.
