frozen in the miniature hollow. Along its edge I stamped, getting my feet very wet indeed. Presently I came to where it lost itself in a tangle of brown weeds, most of which proved to be asters. To the west, across a field, was a row of locust trees. What a pity it is that we rarely see such a cluster as this, around here, for what a wild, jagged beauty is theirs! But perhaps it is their scarcity that adds to their charm. Here where the stream turns southwestward to wind his way thru the “First Fields” I crossed it and turned northward. The field hare in many places was run over with a short curly grass that reminded one vividly of the hair of a poodle dog. There was a slight rise of ground which I climbed. I had a strange feeling of remotenessas I paused here to look around. On every side were wide field, which lit up by the sun, appeared even broad.
     Along here I came to a fence that extends north. Along one side I went quite a distance. Here were the same kind of drifts that always form along fences, now sunken and fast melting, tinged in places by yellow dust that, during cold weather as sifted into the drift along with the snow. Presently I heard the hoarse cawing of a crow, the first I have seen this year, and on looking up, I saw the huge bird fly slowly