168 SPRING JOTTINGS 



How I like to walk out after supper these 

 days ! I stroll over the lawn and stand on the 

 brink of the hill. The sun is down, the robins 

 pipe and call, and as the dusk comes on they 

 indulge in that loud chiding note or scream, 

 whether in anger or in fun I never can tell. 

 Up the road in the distance the multitudinous 

 voice of the little peepers, — a thicket or screen 

 of sound. An April twilight is unlike any 

 other. 



April 12. Lovely, bright day. We plough 

 the ground under the hill for the new vine- 

 yard. In opening the furrow for the young 

 vines I guide the team by walking in their 

 front. How I soaked up the sunshine to-day. 

 At night I glowed all over ; my whole being had 

 had an earth bath; such a feeling of freshly 

 ploughed land in every cell of my brain. The 

 furrow had struck in; the sunshine had photo- 

 graphed it upon my soul. 



April 13. A warm, even hot April day. 

 The air full of haze; the sunshine golden. 

 In the afternoon J. and I walk out over the 

 country north of town. Everybody is out, all 

 the paths and byways are full of boys and 

 young fellows. We sit on a wall a long time by 

 a meadow and orchard, and drink in the scene. 

 April to perfection, such a sentiment of spring 

 everywhere. The sky is partly overcast, the 

 air moist, just enough so to bring out the odors, 

 — a sweet perfume of bursting growing things. 

 One could almost eat the turf like a horse. All 

 about the robins sang. In the trees the crow- 



