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 



