2 WAKE-ROBIN 



been awake some weeks, but with the universal 

 awakening and rehabilitation of nature. 



Yet the coming and going of the birds is more or 

 less a mystery and a surprise. We go out in the 

 morning, and no thrush or vireo is to be heard; we 

 go out again, and every tree and grove is musical; 

 yet again, and all is silent. Who saw them come ? 

 Who saw them depart 1 



This pert little winter wren, for instance, darting 

 in and out the fence, diving under the rubbish here 

 and coming up yards away, — how does he manage 

 with those little circular wings to compass degrees 

 and zones, and arrive always in the nick of time? 

 Last August I saw him in the remotest wilds of 

 the Adirondacks, impatient and inquisitive as usual ; 

 a few weeks later, on the Potomac, I was greeted 

 by the same hardy little busybody. Does he travel 

 by easy stages from bush to bush and from wood to 

 wood? or has that compact little body force and 

 courage to brave the night and the upper air, and 

 80 achieve leagues at one pull ? 



And yonder bluebird with the earth tinge on his 

 breast and the sky tinge on his back, — did he 

 come down out of heaven on that bright March 

 morning when he told us so softly and plaintively 

 that, if we pleased, spring had come? Indeed, 

 there is nothing in the return of the birds more 

 curious and suggestive than in the first appearance, 

 or rumors of the appearance, of this little blue-coat. 

 The bird at first seems a mere wandering voice in 

 the air: one hears its call or carol on some bright 



