THE SPRING RUSH. 



17 



What a joy and comfort the orioles and the cat- 

 birds are, though among the most common frequenters 

 of our elms and hedges. When I hear the cheerful 

 pipe of the oriole and see that flash of flame dart into 

 the weeping-ash tree at the corner of our piazza, I 

 know that apple-blossoms and all sorts of good things 

 are at hand. As for the catbird, I class him with the 

 bobolink, and I hardly know which of the rollicking 

 clowns I prefer. The catbird is so knowing and so 

 " sassy." I have heard one sing for twenty minutes 

 at a time, perched on the very top of one of our cherry 

 trees. He poured forth a medley like a garden of 

 thrushes, interrupting himself now and then to squeal 

 out a "mew" at me, which I suppose is his growl of 

 displeasure. They imitate everything from a cock 

 to a canary, and I heard one this morning repeating 

 "whippoorwill." Perhaps I ought to add that I 

 also saw him, for the imitation was perfect enough to 

 deceive. 



Speaking of the dates of arrival makes me wish to 

 advise every bird or flower lover to write down when 

 and where the treasure is first seen. I put these 

 memoranda against the description in my favorite 

 books, and then they are always at hand when wanted. 

 I never take a journey anywhere, even if it is no 



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