UNCLE MAURICE

June 7th, Four Oclock A.M.

I am not surprised at hearing, when I awake, the birds singing sojoyfully outside my window; it is only by living, as they and I do, in atop story, that one comes to know how cheerful the mornings really are upamong the roofs. It is there that the sun sends his first rays, and thebreeze comes with the fragrance of the gardens and woods; there that awandering butterfly sometimes ventures among the flowers of the attic,and that the songs of the industrious work-woman welcome the dawn of day.

The lower stories are still deep in sleep, silence, and shadow, whilehere labor, light, and song already reign.

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