DECEMBER. 



greens, many of the herbs that bear the early spring 

 flowers still retain their freshness and spread out their 

 green leaves in the protected nook or in the recesses of 

 the fern-covered rocks. The leaves of the wild strawberry 

 and the cinquefoil are always green in the meadows, and 

 those of the violet on the sheltered slope of the hill. 

 The crowfoot and the geranium are in many places as 

 fresh as in May; and the aquatic ranunculus and the 

 wild cresses are brightly glowing with their emerald foli- 

 age, in the depths of the crystal watercourses that remain 

 unfrozen beneath the wooded precipice, or in the mossy 

 ravines of the forest. 



These phenomena are doubly interesting as evidences 

 of the continued life of the beautiful things they repre- 

 sent, and of the invisible and ever-watchful providence 

 of Nature. Every step we take brings under our review 

 other similar curiosities of vegetable life, which, by reason 

 of their commonness, often escape our observation. On 

 the sandy plain the slender hazel-bushes are loaded with 

 thousands of purple aments, suspended from their flexile 

 twigs, all ready to burst into bloom at the very first breath 

 of spring. In the wet lands, where the surface is one 

 continued sheet of ice, the crowded alders are so full 

 of their embryo blossoms, that their branches seem to 

 be hung with dark purple fruit ; and the sweet-fern of 

 the upland pastures, in still, mild weather, often faintly 

 perfumes the atmosphere with the scent of its half- 

 developed leaves and flowers. 



But the face of Nature, at this time, is riot an unfruitful 

 subject for the poet or -the painter. The evergreens, if 

 not more beautiful, are more conspicuous than at any 

 other season ; and there are many bountiful streamlets 

 that ripple through the woods and often in their depths 

 find protection from the greatest cold. Around these 

 streams the embroidering mosses are as green as the 



