“Oh”, laughed Bill, “I don’t think you catch me. I want to get home at nine or ten o’clock.”
     “We’ll have to start at 6:00 then.”
     As we were walking down Vine St., I heard a robin peep, and looking up, I saw him on a branch of an apple tree, facing us How ruddy was his breast! We went on down High St. and I was im­pressed by the silence. A light snow had fallen in the night, making everything white and silent. It was cold and grey; thin ribbons of smoke was going straight up from chimneys a white fog was descending; not a breath stirred in the cold morning air. Now and then the mournful scream of a Blue-jay could be heard -Blue-jays only give their call on cold winter mornings, it seems to me, at any rate I always associate their shrill cry with cold frosty weather.
     Thru the morning, the clouds broke up, and bright sunlight, accompanied by blue depths of skies, and snow flurries alternated. When we came home again the same robin was sitting on the branches, peeping plaintively, as he looked down to the wet ground thru the falling flakes.
     After dinner Bill came over while I worked at the posters; he was impatient to see them done. We had lots of