THE SEDGE TVARBLER. 107 



and floating masses of confervas grow so fast, that 

 if the pond be cleared in one day of them all, the 

 morrow's sun shall again smile on a surface verdant 

 as ever with a new growth. And there, casting 

 the shadow of their slender boughs on the stream, 

 the silvery willows wave gently to and fro, open- 

 ing their catkins in the early spring to nourish 

 the insect tribes, when, as yet, scarcely another 

 flower offers them food. Beautiful they are in 

 spring, and more beautiful still when in later 

 months those catkins have ripened, and the soft 

 silk of their downy clusters is floating far and 

 wide on the air, or settling on every flower and 

 blade of grass around the stream. 



It is sweet to wander thither at early morning, 

 listening to the music of the water which slowly 

 winds among the grass and sedges, and seems as 

 an accompaniment to the voice of the bird, that 

 is singing its song from some tall reed. The sun- 

 shine glitters on the stream, and the dew on the 

 grass receives all the bright hues of nature. There 

 is a sabbath silence on the hills, interrupted 

 only by the strain of the birds. No sound of 

 alarm is there, or that song would not be so 

 joyous, and its sweet echo gives assurance that we 



