The Birds’ Calendar 
simple hearty strain, seeming to voice the salu- 
tation of Spring herself, as expressed in the lines 
of the poet— 
‘*I come, I come! ye have call’d me long ; 
I come o’er the mountains with light and song!” 
A bird’s instinct in these matters is fully as 
trustworthy as farmers’ almanacs and astronomi- 
cal data. 
March is a transition month, a sort of com- 
posite photograph of winter and spring, when 
nature is in that uneasy stir that betokens the 
end of her long slumber. To call such a gruff 
and blustering old fellow as March a coquet 
seems incongruous; yet he has a grim and 
fickle humor that is a sort of masculine counter- 
part to the more dainty trick of the feminine 
mind. ‘This characteristic and prevalent mood 
of the month is quaintly suggested in the coup- 
let that heads the month’s record. March is 
alluring and provoking. One instant he will 
graciously present the most beguiling token of 
benignant spring, which in the next he rudely 
blows away with boisterous winds. 
The first sound of the song sparrow falls on 
the senses like a bit of unexpected sunshine in 
a stormy day, and raises the temperature of 
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