Lazy Maple trees are swaying in this balmy breeze, and out of doors is filled with a delightful fragrance from Nature's huge sachet bag of budding roses. What a day! And I shall not spoil such beauty with the penning of my gathered "dust", it must wait; scandal is second now, rumors are out of order, cross town low down must be filed for the present, while my soul takes a rendezvous with Spring.

Ah, Main St. has even caught the Spirit and the Hill is vacant; number salesman have vanished; yes, the Avenue is clear and pure and fresh. Spring has struck it too.

And there is old Ridge Street, its stately trees and old Colonial dwellings lending an air of charming quietness. Happy children romp and play, carefree, hastily as though evening may come before enough play is done. Those anxious, eager faces, beaming with joy, and innocence that seem to fairly shout "It is Spring, It is Spring".

Now here I am at last-the end of my little journey,-The Commons,-away from noisy crowds and rattling vehicles, away from meddlesome Babbles, away from all save large oaks, the sloaping green meadows, refreshing silence, the clear blue sky, and-Spring.