VI. 



CATKINS AND ALMOND-BLOSSOM. 



IN spite of the renewal of winter weather, the trees 

 and flowers are still pushing on amain. Snow has fallen 

 again, but there has been a time of sunshine since ; and 

 though the air is keen, the leaves and bursting buds seem 

 to be drinking in the sunlight at all their pores. Ani- 

 mals have felt the brusque change more than plants. A 

 blackbird's nest had already two eggs in it a week ago, 

 but 1 fear the after frosts destroyed them. The early 

 lambs look woe- begone as they straggle aimlessly across 

 the damp fields, too cold to lie down and too tired to 

 keep themselves warm by frisking about ; and many of 

 the younger ones will suffer sorely. Farmers say, in 

 their matter-of-fact way, that the lambing will turn out 

 a failure ; and what a world of misery to the poor beasts 

 themselves those hard business words cover with their 

 cold phraseology. On the other hand, the plants and 

 trees for the most part seem none the worse for the 

 change. The wind has cut off the crocuses in a body, 

 but the lilacs are unfolding their leaves faster than ever, 

 the hedges are green in a mass on sheltered southern as- 

 pects, and the flowering almonds have their naked boughs 

 covered with clustering branches of delicate pinky-white 

 blossom, standing out in true Japanesque relief against 

 the bold background of the deep- blue sky. 



They are hardly pretty, these flowering almonds and 

 other masses of spring bloom on leafless trees ; they 

 eadly lack the natural accompaniment of green foliage, 



