32 



PASTORAL DAYS. 



Who could believe that so much poetic inspiration could emerge from 

 such a mouth as that ; for verily it is this miserable-looking toad that lifts 

 his little voice in the dreamy, drowsy chorus of the twilight. All sorts 

 of odium have been heaped upon the innocent toad ; but he only returns 

 good for evil. He is the farmer's faithful friend. He guards his garden 

 by day, and lulls him to sleep by night. Yonder, near those withered cat- 

 tails, we see the village boys among the calamus- 

 beds, pulling up the long white roots tipped 

 with pmk and fringed with trickling 

 rootlets. What visions of candied flag- 

 root stimulate them in their zeal ! I 

 can almost see the tender, juicy 



leaf -bud screened be- 



1 



HANDFUL FROM THE WOODS. 



neath that smooth pink sheath, and its 



aromatic pungency is as fresh and real 



to me as this appetizing fragrance that 



comes to us from the green tufts of 



spearmint we crush beneath our feet at every 



step. Bevies of swallows all around us skim 



through the air, like feathered darts, in their 



twittering flight ; and the restless starling, like 



a field-marshal, with his scarlet epaulets, keeps 



a sharp lookout for the enemy, and " flutes his 



O-ka-lee " from the high alder-bush at the slightest 



