96 BIRDS AND POETS 



lights me very nmoh, is the perfect emerald of the 

 spring runs while the fields are yet brown and sere, 

 — strips and patches of the most vivid velvet green 

 on the slopes and in the valleys. How the eye 

 grazes there, and is filled and refreshed ! I had for- 

 gotten what a marked feature this was until I re- 

 cently rode in an open wagon for three days through 

 a mountainous, pastoral country, remarkable for its 

 fine springs. Those delicious green patches are yet 

 in my eye. The fountains flowed with May. Where 

 no sj)rings occurred, there were hints and sugges- 

 tions of springs about the fields and by the roadside 

 in the freshened grass, — sometimes overflowing a 

 space in the form of an actual fountain. The water 

 did not quite get to the surface in such places, but 

 sent its influence. 



The fields of wheat and rye, too, how they stand 

 out of the April landscape, — great green squares on 

 a field of brown or gray ! 



Among April sounds there is none more welcome 

 or suggestive to me than the voice of the little frogs 

 piping in the marshes. No bird-note can surpass it 

 as a spring token ; and as it is not mentioned, to my 

 knowledge, by the poets and writers of other lands, 

 I am ready to believe it is characteristic of our sea- 

 son alone. Tou may be sure April has really come 

 when this little amphibian creeps out of the mud 

 and inflates its throat. We talk of the bird inflat- 

 ing its throat, but you should see this tiny minstrel 

 inflate its throat, which becomes like a large bubble, 

 and suggests a drummer-boy with his drum slung 



