140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn— A print of a vermillion foot— A purple finger on the slope— A flippant fly upon the pane— A spider at his trade again— An added strut in Chanticleer— A flower expected everywhere— An axe shrill singing in the woods— Fern odors on untravelled roads— All this and more I cannot tell— A furtive look you know as well— And Nicodemus' Mystery Receives its annual reply!