THE TIME OF YEAR. 113 



— a long night, a short day for them. So they continued 

 till in January the day had grown thirty minutes longer, 

 when they went to roost so much the later ; in February, 

 four o'clock ; in March, by degrees their time for passing 

 by the window e?i route drew on to five o'clock. Let the 

 cold be never so great or the sky so clouded, the mys- 

 terious influence of the light, as the sun slowly rises 

 higher on the meridian, sinks into the earth like a magic 

 rain. It enters the hardest bark and the rolled-up bud, 

 so firm that its point will prick the finger like a thorn ; 

 it stirs beneath the surface of the ground. A magnetism 

 that is not heat, and for which there is no exact name, 

 works out of sight in answer to the sun. Seen or un- 

 seen, clouded or not, every day the sun lifts itself an 

 inch higher, and let the north wind shrivel as it may, 

 this invisible potency compels the bud to swell and the 

 flower to be ready in its calyx. Progress goes on ir 

 spite of every discouragement. The birch trees red- 

 dened all along their slender boughs, and when the sun- 

 light struck aslant, the shining bark shone like gossamer 

 threads wet with dew. 



The wood-pigeon in the fir trees could not be silent 

 any longer. Whoo — too — whoo — ooe ! then up he flew 

 with a clatter of his wings and down again into the 

 trees. ' Take two cows, Taffy,' he could not be silent 

 any longer — whoo — too — whoo — ooe ! The blackthorn 

 bloom began to faintly show the tiniest white studs, and 

 the boys in great triumph brought in the first blue 

 thrush's eggs. Nature would go on though under the 

 thumb of the north wind. Poor folk came out of the 

 towns to gather ivy leaves for sale in the streets to make 

 button-holes. Many people think the ivy leaf has a 

 pleasant shape ; it was used of old time among the 

 Greeks and Romans to decorate the person at joyous 



