36 LEAVES FROM AN APRIL JOURNAL. 



and marks on the sides, looking like Chinese char- 

 acters. I count thirty-eight pieces on the carapace, 

 twenty-five of which are in smaller squares, nicely 

 jointed and forming the margin. 



Now comes a day when the head of the weather- 

 vane points northward, and, although the sun shines, 

 the wind, blowing from o£E the northern snows, shuts 

 off the heat, and the numberless puUeys in Nature's 

 shops seem nearly motionless. How suddenly the 

 serenaders in the swamps put away their trumpets, 

 and went to sleep under their mud blankets again ! 

 The strong wind roars through the branches of the 

 hard-wood trees, and sighs in the pines and hem- 

 locks. The dead, dry leaves underfoot are playing 

 all sorts of antics. Here comes a host of them up 

 the wood-road, racing with each other, in various 

 methods of locomotion, sliding along on their sur- 

 faces, rolling on their edges, tumbling, stems over 

 tips and tips over stems, as if they were eager to 

 reach a certain goal at a given time. Some are as 

 erratic in their scampering as the red squirrels, and 

 in particular places flocks of them suddenly rise up 

 and fly away on the wind's wings, like so many 

 startled birds. In the lee of a pile of odorous pine, 

 I find for a while an excellent shelter, and inhale 

 the fragrance of the resinous blood that oozes from 



