--For several days we have had premonitions of that "ethereal mildness," of which the poets sing.
The winds of March have ceased to play pranks with the crinoline attachments of our fair friends.
The times, in a weather point of view, are good.
Young hearts, gentle thoughts, life, hope, love, youth and gladness, born, of the gentle summer, are appearing in their glorious fullness of form The buds and blossoms are bursting into view.
We are, however, not out of the woods yet, for April may essay some of those little equinoxtial pranks that drive our fair friends from the streets.