text:  Many an hour have I seen you Eusebius with your head half-buried in the long blades of grass and pleasant field-weeds partially edged by the slanting and pervading sunbeams while the little stream has played its song of varied gentleness watching the little insect world and the golden beetles climbing up the long stalks performing wondrous feats for your and their own amusement--for your delight was to participate in all their pleasures; and some would with a familiarity that made you feel akin to all about you walk over the page of the book you were reading and look up and pause and trust their honest legs upon your hand confiding that there was one human creature that would not hurt them