90 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



song is a rare experience for the habitual watcher 

 in the woods, but one that you might have the first 

 April evening that you are abroad. 



Go down to your nearest meadow a meadow 

 near a swampy piece of woods is best and here, 

 along the bank of the meadow stream, wait in the 

 chilly twilight for the speank, speank, or the peent, 

 peent, from the grass the signal that the song is 

 about to begin. 



VI 



One of the dreadful positively dreadful 

 sounds of the late spring that I hear day in and day 

 out is the gobbling, strangling, ghastly cries of 

 young crows feeding. You will surely think some- 

 thing is being murdered. The crying of a hungry 

 baby is musical in comparison. But it is a good 

 sound to hear, for it reminds one of the babes in the 

 woods that a new generation of birds is being 

 brought through from babyhood to gladden the 

 world. It is a tender sound ! The year is still 



young. 



VII 



You should hear the hum of the honey-bees on a 

 fresh May day in an apple tree that is just coming 

 into perfect bloom. The enchanting loveliness of 

 the pink and white world of blossoms is enough to 

 make one forget to listen to the hum-hum-hum- 



