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purple grackle is sending out his wheezy call over the 

 bare trees, flashing his irridescent neck in the blaze 

 of a sun that has still the edge of winter in its golden 

 light, when the alder and the hazel are beginning to 

 drop their lace-like veils, when the air is full of that 

 indescribable perfume of damp ground and mouldy 

 turf, when every whiff of the pungent breeze is a 

 poem of spring, see this bush set its pretty little 

 yellow flowers along its dusky branches as a sure 

 sign that spring is here. I cannot tell with what de- 

 light I always behold it! Together with the outburst 

 of the Cornelian cherry, its sight always sends a thrill 

 through me. The flowers are so small, so delicate, 

 so fairy-like and cling so closely to the branches, they 

 seem to huddle cheerily together as if they scarcely 

 quite dared to be out at all. You cannot mistake them. 

 Their tiny little umbels, sessile, or nearly so, hang 

 close to the branch, in dense clover-like bunches, very 

 similar, to the passing eye, to those of the Cornelian 

 cherry. They break out along the branches before 

 the leaves appear. The flowers change into beautiful 

 red berries which are ripe in the autumn. You can 

 easily know this shrub by the spicy smell of its leaves 

 and twigs, which are very aromatic. It is this feature 

 which has given the bush its common name. Its 

 leaves are entire, that is, not serrated or cut; are ob- 

 long ovate and are set alternately along the branches. 

 The bush has its terminal twigs rather greenish, but 

 its older branches are of a dull slaty gray or dusty 

 black and are noticeably speckled with little dots or 

 spots. 



