LITTLE BROWN BIRD 



WE are scarcely at the average date of the chiff-chaffs 

 appearance, yet the weather has been warmer than we 

 usually have it " when the whitethroat builds and all 

 the swallows." The sun shines with June brilliance 

 out of a sky destitute of April clouds, yet the buds 

 have not opened to supply the caterpillars on which 

 our early summer visitors feed. Indeed, the sunshine 

 is too ardent for real growing weather. Its glare 

 imperils the leaf fresh from its bud almost as frost 

 does, and the buds do well to remain unopened. 

 April showers are even more needed than April sun 

 to promote spring growth. That the birds have 

 wisdom enough not to cross the sea in such circum- 

 stances shows how much the world is under one law. 

 They await, perhaps, in their winter latitude the 

 happening there of some event which happens only 

 when our caterpillar life is on the move. 



The field is velvety with new growth and starred 

 with golden dandelions. From the clump of wych- 

 elms in the middle comes the smart clatter with which 

 the great-spotted woodpecker calls his mate in esse 

 or in posse. We search the graceful grey tracery of 

 the boughs against the blue sky, and find his shiny 

 black shoulders, spotted with diamonds, with his 

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