THE LAST DAY OF WINTER 131 



ISin their joints, instead of the grit of rheumatism to^ 

 :,stiffen and cripple you ! 



The roads are barely thawed. The raw wind isi 

 ^penetrating, and we need our greatcoats to keep out 

 ^fjthe cold. But look ! A flock of robins twenty of 



'them, dashing into the cedars, their brown breasts 

 plowing warm and red against the dull sky and the 

 lark green of the trees ! And wait before we go 

 down the hill here behind the barn no, there 

 ie dives from the telephone wire Phoebe ! He has 

 Jjust gotten back, and is simply killing time now 

 (and insects too), waiting for Mrs. Phoebe to ar- 

 rive, and housekeeping to begin. 



Don't move ! There in the gray clouds two soar- 

 ing, circling hen-hawks! Kee-ee-you ! Kee-ee-you ! 

 }Round and round they go, their shrill, wild whistle 

 .piercing the four quarters of the sky and tingling 

 down the cold spine of every forest tree and sapling, 

 stirring their life blood until it seems to run red into 

 \ their tops. 



For see the maple swamp off yonder the ashy 



