APRIL 95 
ineffable and immaterial and so stimulating to the 
sense as the incense of April. 
The season of which I speak does not correspond 
with the April of the almanac in all sections of our 
vast geography. It answers to March in Virginia 
and Maryland, while in parts of New York and New 
England it laps well over into May. It begins when 
the partridge drums, when the hyla pipes, when the 
shad start up the rivers, when the grass greens in 
the spring runs, and it ends when the leaves are un- 
folding and the last snowflake dissolves in midair. 
It may be the first of May before the first swallow 
appears, before the whip-poor-will is heard, before 
the wood thrush sings; but it is April as long as 
there is snow upon the mountains, no matter what 
the almanac may say. Our April is, in fact, a kind 
of Alpine summer, full of such contrasts and touches 
of wild, delicate beauty as no other season affords, 
The deluded citizen fancies there is nothing enjoy- 
able in the country till June, and so misses the 
freshest, tenderest part. It is as if one should miss 
strawberries and begin his fruit-eating with melons 
and peaches. These last are good, — supremely 
so, they are melting and luscious, — but nothing so 
thrills and penetrates the taste, and wakes up and 
teases the papille of the tongue, as the uncloying 
strawberry. What midsummer sweetness half so 
distracting as its brisk sub-acid flavor, and what 
splendor of full-leaved June can stir the blood like 
the best of leafless April? 
One characteristic April feature, and one that de- 
