The first sparrow of spring! The year beginning with younger hope than ever!... What at such a time are histories, chronologies, traditions, and all written revelations? The brooks sing carols and glees to the spring.

City life is millions of people being lonesome together.

Instead of water we got here a draught of beer, a lumberer's drink, which would acclimate and naturalize a man at once,-which would make him see green, and, if he slept, dream that he heard the wind sough among the pines.

Spring. March fans it, April christens it, and May puts on its jacket and trousers.

The prosaic man sees things badly, or with the bodily sense; but the poet sees them clad in beauty, with the spiritual sense.

Surely the writer is to address a world of laborers, and such therefore must be his own discipline.

A man may esteem himself happy when that which is his food is also his medicine.