298 DATS OUT OF DOORS. 



but now how we treasure the little space that the cedar 

 has shielded ! It is useless to attempt the spot's descrip- 

 tion; a serious task to enumerate all that might be 

 gathered. With a spray of the partridge berries to re- 

 member it, I ^ss on, wondering why the season's first 

 snow is not more suggestire. My mind runs continually 

 upon what it hides and not what upon it is. The treasures 

 beneath it I am continually seeking, and give scarce a 

 thought to their covering. Even now, as a quail whirls 

 up before me, bouncing from the little cluster of rag- 

 weed, the snow-dust in the noonday sun — a pink and 

 gilded cloud — is less admired than the speedy but grace- 

 ful flight of the bird. The corn-rows can still be traced, 

 and, although many a one is beautifully arched with snow, 

 I lose sight of them directly as the grass-finch threads the 

 glittering maze before me, recalling what time this same 

 bird ran in the deep ruts of the dusty lane all summer 

 long, keeping just out of danger as the carriage hurried by. 

 The field I am crossing ends at the blufE overlooking 

 the low-lying meadows, and here, as at the road-side, the 

 transition is startling. What strange power has made 

 way with the snow? The leaves are again bare, and, 

 where they have not enviously concealed the hardier 

 growths, green plants cover much of the ground. One 

 has but to pass down the hill-side a few paces to realize 

 what winter sunshine may be, give it half a chance. The 

 tops of the tall trees are waving in a wind that never 

 reaches the ground; and no obstacle intervenes, except 

 the clouds, to shut out the noonday sun. It is rarely the 

 case but that what snow gathers during the night is here 

 melted before night comes again; and when the great 

 storms, such as were more common a century ago than now, 

 deeply covered even this sunny, southern slope, it was the 

 first ground to reappear when the skies were again clear. 

 And so, even now, in December, although 



