A Winter Cat-Bird. 23 



Its pearly-striped and dark-green leaves had all the 

 freshness of a flower, and I plucked them quite as 

 eagerly. 



There is nothing strange in seeing much, even 

 when Nature seems to close the doors upon you. 

 Even if so disposed, she cannot hide all her treas- 

 ures. And, after all, is it not a misconception 

 upon our part to suppose her back is ever turned, 

 or that she really closes a door upon you ? Can 

 the world be dead or sleeping where there are 

 birds, and living, growing plants ? Plunge but the 

 tip of your finger in the icy waters and you will 

 realize how chill they are ; yet, overturning a little 

 stone, some strange creature darted away and took 

 refuge beneath another sheltering pebble. Even 

 there, where ice-crystals replaced the lush grasses 

 of the past summer, strange forms of life found 

 Nature open-handed ; and if such should spurn to 

 hibernate, why should not we be brave enough to 

 laugh at winter even when he frowns ? 



It is easy to catalogue the doings of a day, and 

 even less laborious to list the objects that, in a 

 brief walk, we pass by ; but if they are in nowise 

 suggestive, have we really seen them ? About the 



