38 IN WINTER. 



were again in full chorus ; and later, in Novem- 

 ber, as late as the ipth, they rattled and piped, 

 not only in the sheltered marshes, but among the 

 wilted stalks of lotus in an exposed upland field. 

 Then a long interim, when I was constantly in 

 town, but at noon, December 19, 1 heard them 

 again, and on Jan. 12, 1890, frogs of at least two 

 species were croaking; and, too, bees were 

 about, snakes were sunning themselves, turtles 

 crawled from the mud, and salamanders squatted 

 on dead oak leaves in the full glare of an almost 

 midsummer sun. When John Blank was told 

 of this he looked his name ; but he was not dis- 

 concerted. " Did you ever examine the marshes 

 in winter ? " I asked. 



" Certainly not," he replied, and added : 

 " What's to be found in frozen mud, cold water, 

 and about dead grass ? " 



" More life than you ever saw in midsum- 

 mer," was the impatient reply, and with this I 

 moved off. 



Blank maintained his reputation and declined 

 to take a hint. " Did you ever see wild violets 

 at Christmas ? " he asked. I laughed, and as- 

 suming good-nature, said, "Come along," and 

 started with the conceited nuisance to a sheltered 

 meadow. The grass was not dead, although 

 Christmas was at hand ; there were even green 

 leaves on the sassafras sprouts ; the water was 



