MAY 



23 



LINNAEUS, 1707. 



The sumach (Rhus glabra) grew luxuriantly 

 about the house, pushing up through the embank- 

 ment which I had made, and growing five or six 

 feet the first season. Its broad pinnate tropical 

 leaf was pleasant though strange to look on. The 

 large buds, suddenly pushing out late in the spring 

 from dry sticks which had seemed to be dead, de- 

 veloped themselves as by magic into graceful green 

 and tender boughs, an inch in diameter. 



THOBEAC: Walden. 



24 



Then, as it grew dark, it grew silent, except 

 for the hylas, till suddenly a field sparrow gave 

 out his sweet strain once. After that all was quiet 

 for another interval, till a thrasher from the hill- 

 side began to sing. He ceased, and once more 

 there was stillness. All at once the tanager broke 

 forth in a strangely excited way, blurting out his 

 phrase two or three times and subsiding as ab- 

 ruptly as he had commenced. Some crisis in his 

 love-making, I imagined. Now the last oven-bird 

 launched into the air and let fall a little shower of 

 melody, and a whip-poor-will took up his chant afar 



off. 



TOBREY: Birds in the Bush. 



