AN ARCADIAN CALENDAR 



trails, a troubling of snow, and a few scarlet stains, tell 

 of a poacher's kill. The information gained is vouch- 

 safed at a timely hour for the keeper, who now opens 

 his March trapping campaign. Through this month all 

 his energies are bent on, keeping down rabbits and 

 vermin. 



INTO a pasture where a bunch of lambs were cutting 

 capers leapt, from a small spinney, a fox, 

 Reynard's as if to join in the play. He out-capered the 

 Little liveliest of the lambs, and pounced and 



Game rolled with the playfulness of a puppy. The 



lambs seemed to welcome a new playmate ; 

 watched his antics awhile ; then made a skipping charge, 

 which drove him back to the spinney. A moment later 

 he reappeared, and the lambs romped to greet him, but, 

 after running a circle, he quickly retired, leaving the 

 lambs all alert to carry on the game of " I spy." The 

 fox may have spied the approaching shepherd. His 

 play seemed innocent : but who would trust him but a 

 lamb? 



THIS week we may find in woods an anemone more 

 precious and lovely than the many-hued 

 Wind sorts that for so long have been flaunting 



Flowers in flower-shops. The discovery of the first 

 wood anemones makes a red-lettered day 

 as memorable as the day when the first chiffchaff comes 

 and calls its name in March. The dead whiteness of the 

 anemone is set off by the tinge of pink on the petals 

 (or sepals), and now and then a drift of anemones is 

 found with the flowers purple, or even a delicate sky- 

 blue, within and without. They are well-named wind- 



