I 4 8 IN SPRING. 



mark. If the water be not unutterably filthy, fish 

 will condescend to tenant the shallow depths, 

 frogs will thrive therein, bitterns and the little 

 rail-bird find such a spot attractive, and many 

 an aquatic plant grows nowhere else so vigor- 

 ously. 



There are, as all know, mud-holes that are 

 but blotchy remnants of man's interference 

 mere accidents, as it were, which do not con- 

 cern us ; and also those deeper scars where the 

 fair face of the landscape has been wounded se- 

 verely, as when the ice-gorged river bursts its 

 proper bounds, leaving a shallow pool in my 

 pasture meadow: such as these are never be- 

 neath the notice of a contemplative rambler. 

 The truth is, in the valley of the Delaware the 

 average mud-hole is eminently respectable. Giv- 

 ing the matter a sober second thought, one will 

 see that mud is not necessarily offensive. That 

 of the meadows, if analyzed, proves to be com- 

 pounded of very worthy entities water, clay, 

 sand, and leaf-mold. Why, because they are as- 

 sociated, should they be so studiously shunned ? 

 No chemical change has taken place resulting in 

 the formation of a dangerous mixture. Mud is 

 unlovable only when you are made its prisoner ; 

 but even a fool knows it is best to remain out- 

 side the bars when he comes to a lion's cage. 

 The lily loves the mud from which it springs. 



