WHEN MARCH WINDS BLOW. 147 



which this park is famous have nearly lived their 

 life out, the two species of black-and-white wood- 

 peckers execute their curious kettle-drum solo, or 

 we might say their side-drum rolls. Through the 

 woods and over the river the pied drummers are 

 heard. Tap, tap, tap ! then comes the roll exe- 

 cuted with faultless precision ; tap, tap, and the 

 roll again. So loud is it that the hare frolicking 

 in the field sits up to listen. When March winds 

 blow is the time for their most joyous perform- 

 ance; whilst those who watch Puss just now see 

 that " Mad as a March hare " is a proverb not 

 without reason. 



