APRIL 



15 



But who ever dreamed of calling the chipping 

 sparrow a fine singer ? And yet, who that knows 

 it does not love his earnest, long-drawn trill, dry 

 and tuneless as it is ? I can speak for one, at all 

 events ; and he always has an ear open for it by 

 the middle of April. It is the voice of a friend, 

 a friend so true and gentle and confiding that we 

 do not care to ask whether his voice be smooth 

 and his speech eloquent. 



TOKKEY: Birds in the Bush. 



16 



There are many things left for May, but nothing 

 fairer, if as fair, as the first flower, the hepatica. 

 I find I have never admired this little firstling half 

 enough. When at the maturity of its charms, it is 

 certainly the gem of the woods. What an individ- 

 uality it has I No two clusters alike ; all shades 

 and sizes ; some are snow-white, some pale pink, 

 with just a tinge of violet, some deep purple, others 

 the purest blue, others blue touched with lilac. 

 A solitary blue-purple one, fully expanded and ris- 

 ing over the brown leaves or the green moss, its 

 cluster of minute anthers showing like a group of 

 pale stars on its little firmament, is enough to ar- 

 rest and hold the dullest eye. 



BURROUGHS: Signs and Seasons. 



