THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS 11 
if the Indians heard the wood thrush as we hear 
him. Where did the bobolink disport himself 
before there were meadows in the North and rice- 
fields in the South? Was he the’ same lithe, 
merry-hearted beau then as now? And the spar- 
row, the lark, and the goldfinch, birds that seem 
so indigenous to the open fields and so averse to 
the woods, —we cannot conceive of their existence 
in a vast wilderness and without man. 
But to return. The song sparrow, that univer- 
sal favorite and firstling of the spring, comes before 
April, and its simple strain gladdens all hearts, 
May is the month of the swallows and the 
orioles. There are many other distinguished arri- 
vals, indeed nine tenths of the birds are here by 
the last week in May, yet the swallows and orioles 
are the most conspicuous. The bright plumage of 
the latter seems really like an arrival from the 
tropics. I see them dash through the blossoming 
trees, and all the forenoon hear their incessant 
warbling and wooing. The swallows dive and 
chatter about the barn, or squeak and build beneath 
the eaves; the partridge drums in the fresh sprout- 
ing woods; the long, tender note of the meadow- 
lark comes up from the meadow; and at sunset, 
from every marsh and pond come the ten thousand 
voices of the hylas. May is the transition month, 
and exists to connect April and June, the root with 
the flower. ° 
With June the cup is full, our hearts are satis- 
fied, there is no more to be desired. The perfec- 
