I have read once or twice in the newspapers that butterflies have been seen from time to time this mild winter, and now this morning I have caught sight of one of these Press butterflies, a beautiful large yellow one, floating over the field as if it were summer.

To-day we have been sowing, in shallow ridges in our most favoured border, two or three kinds of early Green Peas. How this kind of thing draws the seasons together! I dare say we have much that is disagreeable before us; still, when these Peas are ready, it will be leafy June and spring will be over.