CHAPTER VI. 

 VOICES OF SPRING. 



IN the Middle States the entire month of March is a tem- 

 pestuous conflict between the icy cold of winter and 

 the power of a vernal sun. Yet even the first week of this 

 month may have its days of genial warmth, when the earth, 

 reeking from the relenting frost, woos the coming spring. 

 Such is this third day of March, when lo! a voice salutes me, 

 which is the very soul of tenderness. I can scarcely tell 

 whether sadness or joy the more prevails in its soft warb- 

 lings, so strictly is it in harmony with these unsettled days. 

 It is the voice of the Bluebird (Siatia stalls). Appearing 

 here the last week in February or the first week in March, 

 the "color" of the sky "on his back " and the "hue" of the 

 earth "on his breast," he may well inspire -hope and courage 

 in every heart. Who does not welcome the Bluebird ? 

 Like the sweet-scented trailing arbutus, which they called 

 the May-flower, the arrival of the Bluebird cheered the 

 fainting spirits of the first settlers of Massachusetts after a 

 long and dreadful winter; and, associating him in some way 

 with the Robin-redbreast of Europe, they called him the 

 Blue Robin. Some 6.50-7.00 long, the upper parts of the 

 male are a beautiful, bright, ultra-marine blue; throat, 

 breast and sides chestnut-red ; belly white. The female is 

 similar, but more or less tinged with dull gray above. The 

 young resemble the old, but, with a light fringed plumage 

 above, are truly beautiful. 



