He must go and fancy
’Tis winter all the year!
—Thomas Bailey Aldrich.
NEIGHBORING WITH NATURE.
We were at breakfast one morning, when a loitering breeze from the woods filled the room with delicious aroma. The graceful spring flowers and the wild fruit trees were just beginning a life of promise.
“There’s sweet smelling fern in that,” exclaimed Charley, sniffing critically.
“I think it’s from the crab-apple trees by the chalybeate spring,” said grandma.
“No, it’s the chicksaw plums by the creek,” cried Margaret.
“It ’mells ’ike ’bacco moss to me,” murmured Pearl, touching the tip of her nose with her dainty forefinger.
“I know what it is,” asserted Grace; “it’s the wild cherry tree; it’s full of blossoms.”