THE MARSHES IN APRIL 



THE marshes in April begin to show 

 a livelier green, and to deck their 

 edges with various bright colors. 

 Nearly every trace of winter has been blotted 

 out. The dead sedge is hidden by sheets of 

 emerald grass, and only in some out-of-the- 

 way corners is there a hint of the ravages 

 which mark the path of the months gone by. 

 In these nooks one may find a clump of faded 

 cat-tails, their stalks broken or bent, their 

 rusty brown heads flaking off and scattering 

 as the winds go over. Violets spring up on 

 the outer skirts of the swampy spots, together 

 with little starry flowers of white and yellow, 

 hardly noticeable to the careless comer. Bul- 

 rushes rise in olive-green masses, their grace- 

 ful tips tilting to the silent waters. Willows, 

 stunted and sparse, stand here and there, 

 the furry " catkins " of March having been 

 superseded by the more mature buddings. 

 The distant timber-lines are still black, but 

 I 



