388 • DECEMBER. 



There is a sort of perpetual spring in these protected 

 arbors and recesses, where we may at all times behold 

 the springing herbs and sjDrouting shrubbery, when tliey 

 are not hidden under the snow-drift. The American hare 

 feeds upon the foliage of these tender herbs, when she 

 exposes lierself at this season to the aim of the gunner. 

 She cannot so well provide for her winter wants as the 

 squirrel, whose food, contained in a husk or a nutshell, 

 may be abundantly hoarded in her subterranean grana- 

 ries. The hare in her garment of fur, protected from the 

 cold, feels no dread of the climate; and man is almost 

 the only enemy who tlireatens her, when she comes out 

 timidly to browse upon the scant leaves of the white 

 clover, or the heath-like foliage of the hypericum. 



But the charm of a winter's walk is derived chiefly 

 from the flowerless plants, — the ferns and lichens of the 

 rocks, the mosses of the dells and meres, and the trail- 

 ing wintergreens of the pastoral hills. ]\Iany species 

 of these plants seem to revel in cold weather, as if it 

 were congenial to their health and wants. To them has 

 Nature intrusted the care of dressing all her barren places 

 in verdure, and of preserving a grateful remnant of sum- 

 mer beauty in the dreary places of winter's abode. And 

 it is not to be wondered that, to the fanciful minds of 

 every nation, the woods have always seemed to be peo- 

 pled with fairy spirits, by whose unseen hands the earth 

 is garlanded with lovely wreaths of verdure at a time 

 when not a flower is to be found upon the hills or in the 

 meadow. 



Whether we are adapted to nature, or nature to us, it 

 is not to be denied that on the face of the earth those 

 objects that appear to be natural are more congenial to 

 our feelings than others strictly artificial. The lichen- 

 covered rocks, that form so remarkable a feature of the 

 hills surrounding our coast, are far more pleasing to every 



