OUTDOORS 



Down along the creek's edge, under old 

 logs, you may find mullein leaves, still soft 

 and the lower leaves yet unblackened by the 

 frosts. And there, too, will sometimes be 

 found moss which is still green and vigor- 

 ous. The grass for the most part is abso- 

 lutely dead and of a tawny brown color, and 

 yet it lies thick and heavy underneath the 

 snows. Hickory-nuts and acorns are scattered 

 through this withered growth, and many a 

 patient woodland forager has knowledge of 

 that fact. Below the icy shield over the creek 

 the current flows ; and cold as the water is it 

 holds the music of summer in its minors and 

 trebles. Every day when the sun shines there 

 is a glamour of April in the air, a mirage of 

 brighter and sunnier hours. That black reed 

 by the frozen pool the red-wing is tilting it 

 down, and his whistle sounds as clear as run- 

 ning water. The sh'aft of sunshine across 

 that limb was it a golden-winged wood- 

 pecker's wing? Even the woods themselves, 

 blackened though they be, seem only slumber- 

 ing and waiting for the clarion of March to 

 blow them into sap drapery of green leaf 

 again. Only when the days are dull and the 

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