AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 89 



The Baltimore Oriole builds on nearly "every other" tree in the 

 neighborhood, and is seen 



"drifting like a flake of fire 



Rent by a whirlwind from a blazing spire." 



The Scarlet Tanagers likewise come to our lawn occasionally. To 

 be sure they do not stay long, but long enough to be admired, and to 

 receive our good wishes. 



I am convinced that more than iz'me, an observhig hiierest is needed to 

 make more people familiär with our common birds. 



Birds! Birds! ye are beautiful things, 



With your earth-treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings, 



Where shall man wander and where shall he dwell — 



Beautiful birds — that ye come as well? 



Ye have nests on the mountain, all rugged and stark, 



Ye have nests in the forests all tangled and dark; 



Ye build, ye brood neath the cottager's eaves, 



And ye sleep on the sod, 'mid the bonnie green leaves; 



Ye hide in the heather, ye lurk in the brake, 



Ye dive in the sweet flags that shadow the lake; 



Ye skim where the stream parts the orchard decked land, 



Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate Strand." 



THE FIRST THAW. 



The first thaw came late in January. A whole week of bright sun" 

 shine melted the last vestige of snow, and the green grass peeped 

 forth once more. The life-giving warmth and moisture seemed to 

 waken every thing. What a different world from that a few weeks ago! 



It was towards the last of the week that I set out on a pilgrimage to 

 see this change in nature. I found my Squaw Run, the little gurgling 

 stream that afforded me so much pleasure in summer, when I waded init 

 and caught crayfish and watersnakes, had been changed by the sun's 

 magic rays into a raging current that had swept bridges away and had 

 torn down monarchical oaks. This was a new phase of the stream's 

 character, and it awed me. 



However, I could not spend all my time here, so I passed on to see 

 the effects of the sun's rays on living things. On the hillside the green 

 grass gave plenty of color to harmonize with the azure of the sky, but 

 in the woods all was dark and somber. The ground here was covered 

 with dead leaves, and the tall black tree trunks offered no relief; but 

 here and there there was a patch of green where the ferns lay, and I 

 soon found that they too had awakened and were putting forth fiddle- 

 heads. Out of the woods all was bright, but here I found more signs 

 Of life. A Caterpillar was leisurely crawling along munching a leafiet 



