THE LAST DAY OF WINTER 131 



in their joints, instead of the grit of rheumatism to 

 stiffen and cripple you ! 



The roads are barely thawed. The raw wind is 

 penetrating, and we need our greatcoats to keep out 

 the cold. But look ! A flock of robins twenty of 



them, dashing into the cedars, their brown breasts 

 glowing warm and red against the dull sky and the 

 dark green of the trees! And wait before we go 

 down the hill here behind the barn no, there 

 he dives from the telephone wire Phoabe ! He has 

 just gotten back, and is simply killing time now 

 (and insects too), waiting for Mrs. Phoebe to ar- 

 rive, and housekeeping to begin. 



Don't move ! There in the gray clouds two soar- 

 ing, circling hen-hawks ! Kee-ee-you ! Kee-ee-you I 

 Round and round they go, their shrill, wild whistle 

 piercing the four quarters of the sky and tingling 

 down the cold spine of every forest tree and sapling, 

 stirring their life blood until it seems to run red into 

 their tops. 



For see the maple swamp off yonder the ashy 



