A Winter Cat-Bird. 21 



bird, that came and went so quickly, tinged with 

 rosy light the dullest of dull-gray, leaden days. 

 That dreary aspect for which we are prepared at 

 the outset of a walk in winter vanishes into thin 

 air when unlooked-for phenomena become promi- 

 nent. It becomes a matter now of changed con- 

 ditions merely, and not the repellent outlook of a 

 dead past ; while in ourselves a constant longing 

 for a return of better things gives way to eager 

 anticipation. Pleased with what is, we cease to 

 dwell moodily upon what has been. So it proved 

 with the frozen river. The blue waters glittering 

 in golden sunshine, the rippling shallows hid by 

 the encroaching grass, the trembling shadows of 

 overarching trees, these we held dear while sum- 

 mer lasted, but have we nothing left us ? The sun 

 shines fitfully to-day, but when the drifting clouds 

 break from his path, how daintily the ice-gorged 

 shore is tinted ! Never a bow so brilliant in the 

 sky above as the roseate masses of uplifted ice 

 that bind the river. If in the bright blossoms of 

 early June we see only color, we have it here 

 again : the valley and the river offer us not merely 

 the ruins of more genial seasons, but one that 



