JUNE. 117 



IV. 



This is such a morning as makes us almost rebel against 

 the fate which compels us to work indoors, and which 

 forces us to spend our hovirs ' ' cribbed, cabined, and con- 

 fined " within four walls, when every natural instinct calls 

 us out into the open air. The sky is bright, and clear but 

 for a few light and fleecy clouds, the sun shines quite 

 warmly, and all life seems to rejoice with the promise of 

 spring. The bush is vocal with the songs of birds, the 

 thrushes are piping to their mates, the timid little brown 

 hedge sparrow utters its sweet warble of two or three 

 notes, while a couple of lively korimakos are sounding out 

 their bell-like gurgling tones in the gully down to the left. 

 A Red Admiral butterfly has just flown past, apparently 

 newly awakened by the bright warm sunshine, and oblivi- 

 ous of the fact that last week the ground was bound by an 

 iron frost, and that perhaps next week it will be buried in 

 snow. Yet it is midwinter, and only a week past the 

 shortest day of the year. The black and pied fantails 

 which chase one another about with untiring energy, and 

 the perky little tomtit which flits so close to me as it 

 utters its little twittering note, are themselves almost 

 signs of winter, for as the breeding season comes on they 

 go farther into the bush away from the treacherous cats, 

 and are more rarely seen. The few bees which come out 

 of their hives to see how the world is progressing find that 

 flowers are scarce both in bush and garden. True the 

 gorse is putting out its first flush of golden blossom, but 

 its flowers are almost scentless. With all her prodigality 

 Nature exercises a strict economy in many directions, and 

 winter flowers are not commonly lavish of fragrance when 

 scent-guided insects are absent or rare. 



Yet the promise of spring is manifest not only in the 

 songs and brightening plumage of the birds -the very 

 sparrows becoming more brightly marked and banded 

 with grey and brown but in many other signs. The 

 crocuses are putting up their little sheathed buds in the 

 flower borders ; the catkins are out on the birch trees ; and 



