THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 11 



bright March morning when he told us so 

 softly and plaintively that if we pleased, 

 spring had come ? Indeed, there is nothing 

 in the return of the birds more curious and 

 suggestive than in the first appearance, or 

 rumors of the appearance, of this little blue- 

 coat. The bird at first seems a mere wan- 

 dering voice in the air ; one hears its call or 

 carol on some bright March morning, but is 

 uncertain of its source or direction ; it falls 

 like a drop of rain when no cloud is visible ; 

 one looks and listens, but to no purpose. 

 The weather changes, perhaps a cold snap 

 with snow comes on, and it may be a week 

 before I hear the note again, and this time 

 or the next perchance see the bird sitting on 

 a stake in the fence lifting his wing as he 

 calls cheerily to his mate. Its notes now be- 

 come daily more frequent, the birds multiply, 

 and, flitting from point to point, call and 

 warble more confidently and gleefully. Their 

 boldness increases till one sees them hover- 

 ing with a saucy, inquiring air about barns 

 and out-buildings, peeping into dove-cotes, 

 and stable windows, inspecting knot-holes 

 and pump-trees, intent only on a place to 

 nest. They wage war against robins and 

 wrens, pick quarrels with swallows, and seem 



