SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 169 



ing change during the first eight or ten days. 

 This season (1868) is a backward one, and 

 the memorable change did not come till the 

 10th. 



Then the sun rose up from a bed of va- 

 pors, and seemed fairly to dissolve with ten- 

 derness and warmth. For an hour or two 

 the air was perfectly motionless, and full 

 of low, humming, awakening sounds. The 

 naked trees had a rapt, expectant look. 

 From some unreclaimed common near by 

 came the first strain of the song-sparrow; 

 so homely, because so old and familiar, yet 

 so inexpressibly pleasing. Presently a full 

 chorus of voices arose ; tender, musical, half 

 suppressed, but full of genuine hilarity and 

 joy. The bluebird warbled, the robin called, 

 the snow-bird chattered, the meadow-lark 

 uttered her strong, but tender note. Over 

 a deserted field a turkey -buzzard hovered 

 low, and alighted on a stake in the fence, 

 standing a moment with outstretched, vibrat- 

 ing wings, till he was sure of his hold. A 

 soft, warm, brooding day. Roads becoming 

 dry in many places, and looking so good 

 after the mud and the snow. I walk up be- 

 yond the boundary and over Meridian Hill. 

 To move along the drying road and feel the 



