BLACKTHORN (sloe.. 



GENERAL REMARKS. 



HE winds of March drive over the bleak uplands. On 

 the hillsides a cold sunlight plays, between the showers, 

 upon the larches. Their twigs still look, like a veil of 

 golden mist, though here and there already a tinge ot 

 brilliant green suggests the livery of spring. The purple twigs ot 

 the birches and alders are tasselled with yellow catkins, and the hazel 



