54: DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



varicator (if he knows the meaning of the word), he will 

 resent it forcibly, and that is unpleasant. 



The character of the winter is by many assumed to have 

 much to do with the early or tardy coming of spring. 

 This is so reasonable on the face of it that one listens 

 hopefully as it is explained that the average of cold is 

 about the same each year, and if the three months of win- 

 ter proper are steadily frigid, then March will be spring- 

 like in fact as well as name. Alas ! those deadly statistics 

 confront us ; and March has often followed so closely in 

 winter's footsteps that the lengthening days are our only 

 hope that spring will ever come. 



As is my wont, I let not a day go by without some 

 glimpse of out of doors, and more often I am rambling 

 while the day lasts ; and wherever I go I find hopeful 

 plants, brave animals, and mark the skyward route of 

 hardy northward migrants. 



These may be called signs of an early spring, if you 

 will. In proportion as we long for that goodly season we 

 are tempted to so look upon them. But is there not a 

 more rational view ? After all, are these plants and ani- 

 mals not the same as us in this respect ? Like us, they 

 are impatient for the winter to be gone. They lend a 

 willing ear to every murmur of the south wind ; they wel- 

 come the embrace of every ray of sunshine. This, and 

 nothing more. Were they blessed with memory, do you 

 think they would not accuse the weather of being fickle, 

 and would these plants and animals not resent the charge 

 of passing as " signs " ? 



Hast thou, O Spring, some flawless, quick-read sign ? 



We ask of her in vain. She has never deigned to reply, 

 and leaves us to choose between ignorance as to the times 

 of her coming or belittle ourselves by listening to the inan- 

 ities of the weather prophets of Crankville and elsewhere. 



