APRIL SHOWERS 



and toes. He no longer clings readily to 

 trees, and is but an awkward climber. So, 

 too, the webbing between his toes has 

 nearly vanished, and he is not a strong 

 swimmer. He haunts the shallows of the 

 swamps and the sunny pools on the mar- 

 gin of the deep cove. 



Perhaps he knows that he is degenerate, 

 and that his safety lies mainly in silence 

 and obscurity, for he sings rarely, except 

 in the first heyday of spring, when the air 

 is full of soft mists and warmth that stirs 

 the deep-lying memories of the carbonif- 

 erous age. He is a beautiful fellow, 

 hardly more than an inch long, often flesh- 

 colored, and with coppery iris tints that 

 should make the mouths of frog-eating 

 creatures water. It is for desire of him 

 I believe that the pickerel haunt the veriest 

 shallows at this time of year, where you 

 may see them of an evening with their 



