IX. 
“There’s not a green leaf yet, 
Wherewith a breeze could play; 
The bare brown earth is wet 
With the snow of yesterday; 
But out on the apple-bough 
A sound more sweet than rain: 
Hark to the overflow! 
Robin’s come again.” 
—E. S. Oakey. 
HEN we hear the first robin call of the year 
we know winter is being crowded back to 
make way for approaching spring. To-day robin 
calls, calls as to his kindred of old — for all living 
things to waken from their long winter-night’s 
sleep and come forth. 
Yes, robin is here, and bluebird and songspar- 
row, rivals for first honors. I know the robin’s 
call and I know the songs the sparrow and blue- 
bird sing. So 
“Put on your mantles of purple and gold. 
Daffodils! Daffodils! Say, do you hear! 
Spring is near.” Spring is here. 
The coming of these birds and few spring- 
teasing days that softened and set the snow gal- 
loping down ravines to the river, are the sugges- 
tive signs we have of the blithesome days soon 
to cover the frost prints of a winter’s caprice. 
The first report of our 1910 robin was from 
Myrtle avenue, west, heard the morning of Feb- 
ruary 28. The second report was from Manning 
boulevard, March 1, heard in Boulevard Pines. 
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