APRIL 



forgotten what a marked feature this was 

 until I recently rode in an open wagon for 

 three days through a mountainous, pastoral 

 country, remarkable for its fine springs. 

 Those delicious green patches are yet in 

 my eye. The fountains flowed with May. 

 Where no springs occurred, there were hints 

 and suggestions of springs about the fields 

 and by the roadside in the freshened grass, 

 sometimes overflowing a space in the form 

 of an actual fountain. The water did not 

 quite get to the surface in such places, but 

 sent its influence. 



The fields of wheat and rye, too, how 

 they stand out of the April landscape, 

 great green squares on a field of brown or 

 gray! 



Among April sounds there is none more 

 welcome or suggestive to me than the voice 

 of the little frogs piping in the marshes. 

 No bird-note can surpass it as a spring 

 token; and as it is not mentioned, to my 

 knowledge, by the poets and writers of 

 other lands, I am ready to believe it is char- 

 acteristic of our season alone. You may 

 be sure April has really come when this 

 little amphibian creeps out of the mud and 

 inflates its throat. We talk of the bird in- 



