SUMMER MEETING AT BROOKFIELD. 67 



also true. The calendar year commences in midwinter, but the horti- 

 culturist, except the professional florist, finds little to do out of doors 

 at that time; his year commences when the genial warmth and light of 

 the god of day dispels the dampness and the cold, and puts new life 

 into all manner of vegetation, from the snowdrop and the crocus up to 

 the monarch of the sugar camp or of the forest and the mountain. 



SPRING. 



Spring is the joyous season of the year. The opening buds, the 

 springing grass, the sweet smell of the cherry, plum and apple blos- 

 soms and the vine, the caroling of the birds, the hum of the busy bee, 

 the flight of the aquatic birds to their northern breeding places, the 

 cackling hen, the strut and gobble of the turkey cock, the peep, per- 

 chance through the fleecy snow, of the crocus, the azure blue of the 

 sky and the deeper tint of the coy blue violet, the arrival of the blue- 

 bird and the other sweet songsters — these with many other tokens are 

 the harbingers of beautiful, glorious, life-giving, song-inspiring spring, 

 the real commencement of the horticulturist's year. Xo wonder Solo- 

 mon wrote in his song of songs : 



"For, lo. the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, 



The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing 



Of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard 



In our land, the tig tree putteth forth her green 



Figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell." 



Quite as poetic as our own Longfellow writes : 



' 'When the warm sun that brings 



Seed time and harvest has returned again, 



'Tis sweet to visit the still wood where spring 

 The first flowers of the plain." 



Again: 



"The softly warbled song 

 Comes from the pleasant wood, and colored wings 

 Glance quick in the bright sun that moves along the 

 Forest openings." 



And once again, a translation by the same from the French : 



"Gentle spring, in sunshine clad. 



Well dost thou thy power display, 

 For winter maketh the light heart sad, 



And thou, thou iuakest the sad heart gay. 

 He sees thee, and calls his gloomy train. 

 The sleet and the snow and the wind and the rain, 

 When thy merry step draws near." 



