A Window in Arcady 
flowers. After being touched by the frost the wild rose 
hip becomes sweet to the taste, and is a dainty morsel to 
birds and sundry small deer in winter. It has even been 
of some account in the diet of the Indians, particularly in 
the far Northwest, where there is at least one species of 
rose which bears fruit that is comparatively large and 
juicy. 
November 29. —Before entering upon her winter slum¬ 
bers, Mother Nature makes a beginning at her spring 
work, as a thrifty housewife the last thing at night hangs 
the cream kettle outside the kitchen door and sets her bis¬ 
cuit to rise. So as we tramp about the woods and “fields 
these days of the fall of the leaf we shall see many things 
that point to spring. Arbutus, for instance, is already in 
bud, and the alder shrubs are loaded with clusters of 
close-fisted catkins, hoarding golden pollen subject only 
to the order of next year’s sun. Some of the other plants, 
however, are more secretive. To look at the hepatica and 
the wild ginger you would think they considered one year 
at a time enough for them, for they give no outward token 
of preparing for spring. Nevertheless, if you thrust your 
finger into their loamy bed you will find buds started 
underground, inclosing baby flowers in their winter wraps. 
[118] 
