224 ^7 Neighbor's Wood-Shed 



atmosphere. The air of the meadow and 

 of the upland, of the mountains and sea- 

 shore, are the same, yet how unlike ! Within 

 the range of my rambles the sand all sum- 

 mer drinks in the sunshine and gives it back 

 in generous volume during the coldest win- 

 ter days. Here we have what my neigh- 

 bors call a " soft" air, one tempered by the 

 wealth of odors from a varied vegetation. 

 The trailing arbutus, sweet-scented vernal- 

 grass, June roses, the magnolia of the 

 swamps, new-mown hay, blooming grape, 

 yarrow and the many mints, and the rich 

 aroma of the ripened nuts, all these and 

 many more leave a trace behind them, and 

 I fancy that I recognize each, in turn, when 

 the first frosty winds of winter rattle the 

 loose shingles overhead and whistle through 

 the seamy walls of my neighbor's wood- 

 shed. 



THE END. 



