46 JOURNAL AND PROCEEDINGS. 
winds and paucity of sunny calm days. Vegetation is backward, 
the forests as yet showing but little change from their wintry bare- 
ness and indecisive tints, excepting, perhaps, the swamp maples, 
which reddened with blossoms two weeks ago. 
I noticed a few dandelions in blossom for tke first time this 
year on Wednesday last (26th of April.) They are generally to be 
seen two weeks earlier. I have seen the same flowers expanded 
in England by the 15th of April. The temperature went up a little 
on the 30th of April, and consequently the House Wrens put in their 
appearance. We heard their rippling chant before 7 a.m., announcing 
their punctual return to their familiar summer quarters. A pair of 
them went bustling about the neighborhood the whole day, pouring 
forth volubly repeated snatches of song. 
The birds had probably crossed Lake Erie, from Pennsylvania, 
the same morning, as an acquaintance who lived for years in the 
Long Point region, avers that migratory birds are frequently at this 
time of the year, seen there, at, or before sunrise, that were absent 
at dusk of the previous day. 
The leader in the arrival of the warbler family is almost always 
the little Red-start (Setophaga ruticilia), which appears simultan- 
eously with the house Wren, followed immediately by the Marland 
Yellow-throat, and the Blue-Eyed Yellow Warbler. The Humming 
Bird is first seen here as soon as the currant bushes blossom. ‘The 
Robins, that were ten days ago setting on their nest of eggs in the 
branches of a grape vine in my garden, have met with misfortune, 
and the broken egg shells are now lying under the nest, which is 
deserted. I have no doubt that this havoc has been the work of 
the Boat-Tailed Grackle, which in parties of two and three daily 
visit the garden, evidently on evil deeds intent. In future it will 
be more dangerous for them to appear within gunshot of our house 
premises. This bereavement of the Robins brings to memory 
a bit of sentimental writing in the New England Stroller, 
(“Land of the Lingering Snow,”) which seems worth quoting, 
(locality Beaver Brook.) ‘‘In this meadow the Marsh Mari- 
golds were abundant (May goth), but on seeking to gather a 
bunch, I felt the first sorrow of the year. The flowers were faded, 
their golden petals were stained and partly fallen, thezr beauty had 
departed. So soon! Spring, scarcely sure of its standing as a 
season, is marked with the first scars of death. Not far away I saw 
