IN SPRING. 



catch the fragrant breeze that held me spell- 

 bound when a boy ; and all these later, fleeting 

 years, I have hoped for them in vain ! 



With the apple-blossoms come the birds' 

 nests, and who that has lived in the country 

 knew not of a robin's home in some old apple 

 tree? And did ever a bird sing merrier strains 

 than this same robin at sunrise ? Or, even bet- 

 ter, as the sun shone forth again, after a shower, 

 the rapid roll of his rejoicing, as he perched upon 

 his home-tree's loftiest branch. 



It is the rule, apparently, that very old apple- 

 trees have great hollows in them. If the entire 

 trunk is not a shell, then here and there, where 

 branches have decayed and fallen, caves of con- 

 siderable depth are found, and how quickly wild 

 life tenants such snug quarters ! A few of our 

 mammals, many birds, several snakes, besides 

 one species of salamander, and the tree-toad, 

 have been found at home in hollow apple-trees. 

 If, therefore, such a tree stands not too near a 

 dwelling, its occupants may epitomize the fauna 

 of a farm. Although, after a rain, I have found 

 pools of water in old trees, there were no fish, 

 and these need not be looked for, unless some 

 venturous mud-minnow, that now can work its 

 way over narrow mud-flats, shall, in time, take 

 to climbing trees, as does a perch that is well 

 known to ichthyologists. "In 1794, Daldorf," 



