perhaps, but then they would like to be regarded as important public personages. They would consider it a misfortune if their names were left out of the published list of passengers, because they came in the steerage, an obscurity from which they might never emerge.
June 3, 1860. These are the clear breezy days of early June, when the leaves are young and few, and the sorrel not yet in its prime. Perceive the meadow fragrance. . . . The roads are strewn with red maple seed. The pine shoots have grown generally from three to six inches, and begin to make a distinct impression, even at some distance, of white and brown above their dark green. The foliage of deciduous trees is still rather yellow-green than green. Tree-toads heard. There are various sweet scents in the air now. Especially as I go along an arbor-vitæ hedge, I perceive a very distinct fragrance like strawberries from it.
June 4, 1852. The birds sing at dawn. What sounds to be awakened by! If only our sleep, our dreams are such as to harmonize with the song, the warbling of the birds ushering in the day. They appear comparatively silent an hour or two later.
The dandelions are almost all gone to seed, and children may now see if "your mother wants you." . . . Lupines in prime. The Can-
