APRIL BIRDS 



the birds, I am prepared to stand by the testimony of 

 Hosea Biglow, 



" First come the blackbirds, clatt'rin' in tall trees, 

 An' settlin' things in windy congresses." 



The clamor of the noisy grackles in the pines is 

 easily the most characteristic and conspicuous early 



bird sound in New England, and April 

 would indeed scarce be April without 

 them. But there still remains another 

 April pledge from the birds, a note too 

 fine for the ear that is content with the 

 blackbird's carnival, but nevertheless as 

 faithful to the season as it is the rar- 

 est, most subtle, and thrilling of its bird 

 music. 



How vividly is it revived in that line of Trow- 

 bridge's, 



"The partridge beats his throbbing drum." 



There is no bird sound like it, this soft, murmurous 

 tattoo of the grouse in the bare, freshening woods. 

 It is in harmony with the first heart-throbs and ac- 

 celerating life of exuberant awakening nature the 

 quickening seeds, the flowing sap, the swelling buds 



