32 UNDER THE OPEN SKY 



in the month. And because his yellow 

 breast, now growing more brilliant in readi- 

 ness for his nearing courtship, would betray 

 him amongst the bare branches, he is quite 

 in the habit of turning his back to any living 

 thing in the neighborhood whose move- 

 ments he mistrusts. 



But it is not only or even chiefly the 

 animal world that feels the glad return 

 of the sun. The plants too are peeping 

 out to welcome him, perhaps none so 

 signally as one of our most despised swamp 

 plants. 



SKUNK-CABBAGE SPROUTS 



A flower pushing its way through ice is 

 certainly enterprising, and this the skunk- 

 cabbage can do. It puts out its first flowers 

 long before its leaves come, and it almost 

 seems that one should call them the last 

 blossoms of winter rather than the first of 

 spring. One crisp February day I found 

 in a swamp, beneath a clump of alders, a 

 number of these blooms. One was stand- 

 ing in a pool and was frozen tight in the 



