KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



195 



IT IS SPRING! IT IS SPRING! 



BY HELEN IIETHERINGTON. 



It is Spring! it is Spring ! bright, gay, cheerful 



spring; 

 The cuckoo is merry, the happy birds sing ; 

 Their carje by affection and love is repaid, 

 And thousands of voices enliven the glade. 

 From the glen and the. forest their kind welcomes 



ring, 

 And they chirp as we pass, — tl It is spring, — 



lovely spring!" 

 All hail ! charming season, thrice welcome art thou 

 To the dear little birds on the tree's lofty 



bough ! 



It is Spring ! how delicious the fresh breath of 



morn, 

 The fragrant perfume by the light breezes borne 

 From the bed where sweet lilies and violets 



repose 

 And dewdrops recline on the leaves of the rose ! 

 Rich clusters of thorn breathe a fragrance most 



sweet, 

 "While daisies and buttercups dance at our feet. 

 All hail ! lovely Spring! thou art welcome indeed 

 To thy faithful attendants o'er valley and mead. 



It is Spring! the bold sun proudly rides in the 



sky, 

 And nears his bright summit of glory on high; 

 Now playfully hiding himself for a while, 

 Then cheering our path with his bright happy 



smile. 

 Oh, Nature ! dear Nature ! how fondly we cling 

 Unto thee when thy heralds proclaim — " It is 



Spring!" 

 And welcome the season of sunshine and showers, 

 The songs of the birds, and the smiles of the 



flowers ! 



It is Spring ! hark, the echo replies — u It is 



spring;" 

 The trammels of care to its victims we'll fling. 

 Where rivulets murmur, oh let us away 

 To bathe in the dewdrops that dance on the 



spray 

 Or chase the fair blossoms that pass with the 



breeze, 

 "Where nodding plumes meet on the proud ches- 



nut trees ; 

 And the grey dawn of morn calmly steals o'er 



the lea, — 

 Then, Spring, lovely Spring ! we will wander with 



thee ! 



It is Spring ! with what pleasure we welcome 



the scene 

 When valleys are clad in a mantle of green; 

 And gay swallows skim o'er the slumbering lake, 

 While young birds are chirping from bower and 



brake ; 

 Or when evening has set on a star-spangled sky, 

 And Philomel warbles a soft lullaby ; 

 When fairy elves dance in the charm'd magic 



ring. — 

 How fondly we welcome thee, — bright, happy 



Spring ! 



MY FRIEND JACK; 



OR, 



THE LIFE OF A TAME SQUIRREL. 



{Concluded from Page 148.) 



After the cloth was removed, and the 

 dessert placed upon the table, we let Mr. 

 Jack out again ; nor was it long before he 

 seated himself among the good things. The 

 apples, walnuts, &c, took his fancy amaz- 

 ingly ! 



On one side of the table was a small glass 

 dish, containing some brandied cherries. 

 These seemed to absorb his attention com- 

 pletely, and he was not long devouring two 

 or three. Fearing lest he should injure him- 

 self, we put them out of his way ; but he 

 found a glass in which some of the cherries 

 and brandy had been left ; and quickly over- 

 turning it, he licked it out most greedily. 

 (What w r ould Father Mathew say to this?) 

 He then took up the largest apple that was 

 in the dish, and endeavored to carry it to 

 his box. On reaching the edge of the table, 

 the weight of the apple pulled him over, and 

 down he went. Still he would not let it go, 

 but dragged it (for it was too heavy for him 

 to carry) to the stand on which his box was 

 placed. Now came the most amusing scene 

 of all. He could not climb up to his box 

 with the apple in his mouth, for it was so 

 large that he was unable to use his paws. So, 

 after two or three attempts (at each of which 

 he fell down, the apple being too heavy for 

 him), he seemed to have hit upon a plan 

 that would overcome his difficulty. Climbing 

 up bachoards (still holding the apple in his 

 mouth), he got it safely into his box ; and 

 when he had stowed it away, he again made 

 his appearance. Mounting the table, he 

 inspected every plate and dish. In one of 

 the plates he found a cherry stone ; this he 

 immediately seized, and commenced working 

 his way into it. He would not give it up, 

 so we let him eat it. When he had finished 

 his cherry stone, he commenced an active 

 search in my pockets ; in one of which he 

 found an acorn. This he soon got hold of; 

 and taking it out, commenced eating it — sitting 

 the while on the edge of the table, close by 

 my side, and uttering at the same time a low 

 chirruping, his invariable practice w T hen 

 pleased. This over, he went to his box, and 

 remained there quietly until tea-time. 



When the tea-things were brought into the 

 room, he would immediately shift his position, 

 and make his "revolver" turn towards the 

 table in opposition to his usual way, which 

 was towards the window. This he invariably 

 did when he wanted to be let out. On the 

 tea being made, we let him out ; and he would 

 run to my mother, and get on her arm, waiting 

 patiently until she gave him a teaspoonful 

 of cream (of which he was particularly 



