A Labrador Spring 
CHAPTER I 
A LABRADOR SPRING 
“Come, gentle Spring, ethereal Mildness, come.” — Thomson. 
GoME years ago in Labrador in late July, 
I was interested to see within the space 
of a few yards all stages of the seasons from 
mid-winter to mid-summer. In the shelter 
of a rugged cliff was a snow-drift as white and 
devoid of life as winter itself. At its edge, for 
the space of a few inches, the ground was bare 
and brown; grasses and procumbent willows 
showed no evidence of life. A little further 
away the first signs of spring were visible in the 
swelling buds of the willows; a few feet further 
and one came on the bake-apple and Labrador 
tea in bud; still further removed in space 
from grim winter, they were as much in blos- 
som as in mid-summer, while at a distance of 
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