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Rh evergreens. The young seedling forest trees are now springing up everywhere, taking the place of the fading violets. On some of the little beeches and aspens, the growth of one or two seasons, we found the new leaves colored in tender pink, or a shade of red, which is remarkable in trees which do not show any traces of this coloring at other times; even in autumn their brightest tint is usually yellow.

The fire-flies are gleaming about the village gardens this evening—the first we have seen this year.

Tuesday, 12th.—Fine day. The roses are opening at length; they are a fortnight later than last year. This morning we were delighted to find a few May-roses in full bloom; by evening, others will have unfolded—to-morrow, many more will have opened—and in a few days, the village gardens will be thronged with thousands of these noble flowers.

How lavishly are the flowers scattered over the face of the earth! One of the most perfect and delightful works of the Creation, there is yet no other form of beauty so very common. Abounding in different climates, upon varying soils—not a few here to cheer the sad, a few there to reward the good—but countless in their throngs, infinite in their variety, the gift of measureless beneficence—wherever man may live, there grow the flowers.

Wednesday, 13th.—Pale, hazy sunshine. Heard of a dish of wild strawberries; we have not yet seen them ourselves. Thursday, 14th.—The whip-poor-wills are now heard every evening, from some particular points on the skirts of the village. They arrive here about the first week in May, and continue their peculiar nocturnal note until toward the last of June: “most