WINTER SKETCHES. 205 



try, and spreads it over the barren, unsightly 

 places. But — 



'' There is no great and no small 

 To the soul that maketh all." 



And she profusely scatters her marvels under our 

 feet and on every hand, whether we will see them 

 or not. 



To-day, there is a Spring-like quality in the air, 

 and I catch an occasional whiff of earthy, woody 

 odors, and certain indescribable sweet scents, as 

 they are wafted by, suggestions and reminders of 

 the balmy seasons before us — migratory breaths 

 of incense exhaled, perchance by the sun further 

 south. Yet the air currents have a chilliness 

 about them and shut off in some degree the heat 

 rays from the world. In the road at high noon 

 the outlines of the boards, tree-trunks, and even 

 the slender fence pickets that intercepted the 

 rays in the morning, are sharply drawn in white 

 against the dark, thawing earth, showing a kind 

 of reverse shadow. 



The most unusual event which I have to record 

 in this out-of-door chronicle appeared on the very 

 last day of Winter ! 



By the edge of the cat-tail swamp from one of 

 those soft, spongy spots where the water grasses 

 and* other aquatic perennials are kept always fresh 

 and green, I started up a small bird, that perched 



