POAETQUISSINGS IN WINTER. 41 



cannot be numbered, yet it does not appear that they 

 have gained one whit of wisdom in this important di- 

 rection. It is a matter of feast and famine, so far as 

 honey is concerned, and this checkered experience has 

 yet to give that additional twist to their cerebral convolu- 

 tions that shall make them wiser. This is no fanciful 

 matter. The storing of nuts by gray squirrels, of small 

 grains by white-footed mice, and of seeds by ants, had 

 its commencement, and was the ultimate result of a 

 protracted series of experiences ; the habit grew, and 

 was not established at the outset, by creative fiat. Con- 

 sidered in this light, the thoughtlessness, if we may call 

 it such, of the flying squirrels is much to be wondered 

 at. 



The sheltering bluff near by will tempt a botanist to 

 linger here, when elsewhere, for miles around, there is 

 nothing but the frost-blackened bloom of the past sum- 

 mer spread before him. Here, even in January, the 

 witcli-hazel, a thrifty shrub ten feet high or more, is 

 starred w'ith yellow blossoms that laugh at the north 

 winds shrieking in the tops of the towering oaks. A 

 veritable witch, it liides in sheltered nooks that no frosty 

 breath can reach, and from November until February 

 invites its flowering friends to be less timid, and seems 

 to assure them that here, at least, winter is no great 

 drawback after all. Usually this is quite true, but if 

 the season of '84-'85 was not discouraging to the witch- 

 hazel, it has, indeed, a brave heart. It may have been 

 blooming lately, but, if so, I overlooked it. 



Bent twigs of this plant are still used by the "gifted" 

 to find water, lost farming tools, and, by one enthusiast, 



