A SPRING RELISH. 197 



occasions I have seen them swimming about the 

 spring pools like muskrats, and when alarmed, dive 

 beneath the water. Add the golden willows to the 

 full streams, with the red-shouldered starlings perched 

 amid their branches, sending forth their strong, liq- 

 uid, gurgling notes, and the picture is complete. The 

 willow branches appear to have taken on a deeper 

 yellow in spring; perhaps it is the effect of the 

 stronger sunshine, perhaps it is the effect of the swift 

 vital water laving their roots. The epaulettes of the 

 starlings too are brighter than when they left us in 

 the fall, and they appear to get brighter daily until 

 the nesting begins. The males arrive many days be- 

 fore the females, and, perched along the marshes and 

 water-courses, send forth their liquid, musical notes, 

 passing the call from one to the other, as if to guide 

 and hurry their mates forward. 



The noise of a brook, you may observe, is by no 

 means in proportion to its volume. The full March 

 streams make far less noise relatively to their size 

 than the shallower streams of summer, because the 

 rocks and pebbles that cause the sound in summer 

 are deeply buried beneath the current. " Still wa- 

 ters run deep " is not so true as " deep waters run 

 still." I rode for half a day along the upper Dela- 

 ware, and my thoughts almost unconsciously faced 

 toward the full, clear river. Both the Delaware and 

 the Susquehanna have a starved, impoverished look 

 in summer unsightly stretches of naked drift and 

 bare bleaching rocks. But behold them in March, 



