Many years had passed since Aunt Mary had moved so quickly. She threw herself at the rocking-chair and flung it to one side. She snatched up the unfortunate kitten and made one rush to the kitchen and the kerosene can, and by the time Martha overtook her, was soaking the poor little burned paws. Half an hour later when Aunts Jenny and Amy opened the sitting-room door, an astonishing sight met their eyes. The firelight redness flickered over the excited faces of Martha and Aunt Mary laughing and talking eagerly together, Martha no longer dignified and Aunt Mary no longer shy. That was the beginning of the end, but Aunt Mary was always Martha's favorite. And it was the little kitten who did it. TWO BIRD LOVERS. Sunday afternoon the birds were sweetly mad, and the lovely rage of song drove them hither and thither, and swelled their breasts amain. It was nothing less than a tornado of fine music. I kept saying, "Yes, yes, yes, I know, dear little maniacs! I know there never was such an air, such a day, such a sky, such a God! I know it! I know it!" But they would not be pacified. Their throats must have been made of fine gold, or they would have been rent by such rapture-quakes.--_Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne, in a letter to her mother._ Lovely flocks of rose-breasted grosbeaks were here yesterday in the high elms above the springhouse. How very elegant they are! I heard a lark, too, in the meadows near the lake, the note more minor than ever in October air. And oh, such white crowns and white throats! A jeweled crown is not to be mentioned beside theirs--such marvelous contrasts of velvets, black, and white! Swamp sparrows, too, and fox sparrows--I saw both during my last drive.--_From letter to Ed., from Nelly Hart Woodworth, Vermont, Oct. 20, 1899._ WINTER TIME. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery, sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange sets again. Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress. Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or, with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door. When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap, The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose. Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding-cake. [Illustration: FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON. A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO. MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT. 4/5 Life-size. COPYRIGHT 1899, BY NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.] THE MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT. (_Geothlypis trichas._) C. C. M.