BLUEBIRD 399 



nence. They give expression to the joy which the sea- 

 son inspires. But the robin and blackbird only peep 

 and chuck at first, commonly, and the lark is silent and 

 flitting. The bluebird at once fills the air with his sweet 

 warbling, and the song sparrow from the top of a rail 

 pours forth his most joyous strain. Both express their 

 delight at the weather which permits them to return to 

 their favorite haunts. They are the more welcome to 

 man for it. 



April 5, 1853. The bluebird comes to us bright in 

 his vernal dress as a bridegroom. Has he not got new 

 feathers then? 



March 11, 1854. Bluebirds' warbling curls in elms. 



March 19, 1855. When I reach my landing I hear 

 my first bluebird, somewhere about Cheney's trees by 

 the river. I hear him out of the blue deeps, but do not 

 yet see his blue body. He comes with a warble. Now 

 first generally heard in the village. 



April 9, 1856. Meanwhile a bluebird sits on the 

 same oak, three rods off, pluming its wings. I hear 

 faintly the warbling of one, apparently a quarter of 

 a mile off, and am very slow to detect that it is even 

 this one before me, which, in the intervals of plum- 

 ing itself, is apparently practicing in an incredibly low 

 voice. 



May 11, 1856. A bluebird's nest and five eggs in a 

 hollow apple tree three feet from ground near the old 

 bank swallow pit, made with much stubble and dried 

 grass. Can see the bird sitting from without. 



Jubj 12, 1856. Hear the plaintive note of young 

 bluebirds, a reviving and gleaming of their blue ray. 



