A VOYAGE TO BEARD'S ISLAND. 131 



A gentle west wind swung the catkins on the 

 poplars, rippled the soft, short grass on the lawn, 

 caressed the new leaves of the horse-chestnuts, 

 maples, and willows, which were timidly unfold- 

 ing under the unusually encouraging season. The 

 Musketaquid had fallen more than a foot since 

 our last cruise, and it was still falling fast. A 

 greater change had, however, crept over the land 

 and the air. The land was now a garden full 

 of beauty. There was the beauty of miles of 

 velvety grass and sprouting grain ; there was the 

 beauty of shrubs thickly clad in half-unfolded 

 leaves ; and there was the beauty of tall trees, 

 whose foliage seemed to be growing as the 

 eye rested upon it, and whose outlines of 

 limb and trunk were being disguised by gauzy 

 draperies of green, sure to become denser and 

 fuller day by day as the eager sun looked more 

 ardently upon the earth. There was als the 

 beauty of spring blossoms, the red of the maples, 

 the white of the willows ; the yellow of dande- 

 lions, early buttercups, and potentilla; the white 

 of saxifrage, everlasting, houstonia, and anemone. 

 The change in the air was twofold. On our 

 other voyage it had brought the chill of snow 

 from the central parts of the state ; now it 

 brought the comforting warmth of a summer- 

 like day. Before, the song of a bird or of a flock 

 of birds had been an item by itself ; now, the air 



