Ill 



MARCH 



' March comes in with an Adder's head, 

 And goes cut with a Peacock's tail.' 



Old Saying. 



MARCH 12. I waste my time just now in 

 observing from the window, a pair of little 

 blue titmice. They mean to build in the 

 ivy and roses that cluster round the old 

 stone pine ; not, I think, in the rustic 

 bark mansion placed ready for them in a 

 yew tree hard by. These titmice are the 

 gracefulest little things imaginable : flitt- 

 ing about like airy living leaves, their colour 

 a lovely grey-green flashed with blue. One 

 never tires of following with the eye their 

 pretty graceful movements, while they 

 are hunting in and out of the branches. 

 Nothing can exceed their animation and 

 grace as they turn and twist upon a small 



