



UKT 



SPBING AT THE CAN^t^ 149 



one, and the memorable change did not come till the 

 10th. 



Then the sun rose up from a bed of vapors, and 

 Beemed fairly to dissolve with tenderness and warmth. 

 For an hour or two the air was perfectly motionless, 

 and full of low, humming, awakening sounds. The 

 naked trees had a rapt, expectant look. From some 

 unreclaimed common near by came the first strain of 

 the song-sparrow ; so homely, because so old and 

 familiar, yet so inexpressibly pleasing. Presently a 

 full chorus of voices arose ; tender, musical, half sup- 

 pressed, but full of genuine hilarity and joy. The 

 bluebird warbled, the robin called, the snow-bird 

 chattered, the meadow-lark uttered her strong, but 

 tender note. Over a deserted field a turkey-buzzard 

 hovered low, and alighted on a stake in the fence, 

 standing a moment with outstretched, vibrating wings, 

 till he was sure of his hold. A soft, warm, brooding 

 day. Roads becoming dry in many places, and look- 

 ing so good after the mud and the snow. I walk up 

 beyond the boundary and over Meridian Hill. To 

 move along the drying road and feel the delicious 

 warmth is enough. The cattle low long and loud, 

 .tnd look wistfully into the distance. I sympathize 

 with them. Never a spring comes, but I have an 

 almost irresistible desire to depart. Some nomadic 

 or migrating instinct or reminiscence stirs within me, 

 I ache to be off. 



As I pass along, the high-hole calls in the distance 

 precisely as I have heard him in the North. After a 



