OLD ALMANACS. 



39 



not cold, although its surface had been frozen ; 

 the mud was very soft. Clustered about the 

 roots of a noble tulip tree were claytonias in 

 bloom ; in the moist meadows were pale-blue 

 violets, and beyond, exposed to the sweep of 

 every chilly breeze from the west, were hous- 

 tonias, and scattered here and there were single 

 dandelions. " This," I remarked, " is no unusual 

 matter, referable to midwinter, and ought to be' 

 familiar to you ; but you have probably not looked 

 m the proper places for these things " ; and, 

 taking my cue from dear old Uz Gaunt, added, 

 " don't look in the west to see the sun rise." 



Then, pleading an engagement with solitude, 

 I bade John Blank " Good-morning." 



The landscape lightened as the bore disap- 

 peared. And how an hour's outing with nature 

 soothes the irritation of an unwelcome interview ! 

 If I were an editor, I would have a cage of frogs, 

 with a bit of green moss and a pool of water 

 like that now at my elbow. To this I could turn 

 for mental refreshment the moment the retiring 

 intruder faced the door of the sanctum, There 

 is nothing so reviving as to contemplate a frog, 

 or, better yet, a tree-toad. Here is one from 

 Florida that takes the world philosophically. 

 When it is too cool on the shady side of his 

 home he creeps to the sunny side ; and as the 

 sun will not stand still, the toad moves with it ; 

 4 



