APRIL BIRDS. 13 



As I stand in the road opposite Elm 

 Park, I hear first, away off toward Sunny- 

 side, and then from the slopes of Newton 

 Hill, the soft, homesick warble of the blue- 

 bird (sialia sialis). It is impossible not 

 to recognize the half-pathetic, tremulous 

 note, so different from the cheerful ditty 

 of the song-sparrow, with which it most 

 frequently blends during the frosty days 

 of March and April. The bluebird has 

 been with us nearly a month, and is al- 

 ready pairing and beginning preparations 

 for setting up housekeeping in some mar- 

 tin-box before the door, or in some de- 

 serted woodpecker's hole in the woods or 

 fields. 



On the morning of the 3ist of March, 

 walking along Pleasant Street, west of 

 Newton Hill, I was surprised to hear from 

 the snow-covered meadow below the pierc- 

 ing, long-drawn-out whistle of the meadow- 

 lark (sturnella magna). It is a veritable 

 spring sound, fresh and strong, cleaving 

 the frosty air like a knife. It is simple as 

 the curve in form, beginning low, ascend- 



