sunny side of the hill, but not elsewhere. A partridge goes from amid the pitch pines. It lifts each wing so high above its back and flaps so low and withal so rapidly that it presents the appearance of a broad wheel, almost a revolving sphere, as it whirrs off, like a cannon ball shot from a gun.
March 8, 1859. p. m. To Hill in rain. There is a fine freezing rain with strong wind from the north, so I keep along under the shelter of hills and woods, along the south side, in my India-rubber coat and boots. Under the southern edge of Woodis Park, in the low ground I see many radical leaves of the Solidago altissima and another, I am pretty sure it is the Solidago stricta, and occasionally, also, of the Aster undulatus, and all are more or less lake beneath. The first, at least, have when bruised a strong scent. Some of them have recently grown decidedly. So at least several kinds of golden rods and asters have radical leaves lake-colored at this season. The common strawberry leaves, too, are quite fresh, and a handsome lake color beneath in many cases. There are also many little rosettes of the radical leaves of the Epilobium coloration, half brown and withered, with bright green centres, at least. . . . . There is but a narrow strip of bare ground reaching a few rods into the wood along
