MAY 



This is the month of the BoboHnks. 

 "Merrily, merrily, there they hie; 

 Now they rise and now they fly ; 

 They cross and turn and in and out, 

 And down the middle and wheel about, 



With 'Phew, shew, Wadolincoln; listen to me, Bobolincoln !* 

 Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, 

 That's merry and over with bloom of the clover, 

 Bobolincoln, \\'adolincoln, Winterseebee, follow me." 



JUNE 



"Then sings the Robin, he who wears 

 A sunset memory on his breast, 



Pouring his vesper hymns and prayers 

 To the red shrine of the West." 



JULY 



The full tide of song is on the ebb, but you still hear in the shadowy woods 

 the silvery notes of — 



y **The wise Thrush, who sings his song twice over, 

 Lest you should think he never could recapture 

 That first fine careless rapture." 



— Brozcnmg. 



AUGUST 



The humming bird. 



"When the mild gold stars flower out, 



As the summer gloaming goes, 

 A dim shape quivers about 



Some sweet rich heart of a rose. 



"Then you, by thoughts of it stirred. 



Still dreamilly question them, 

 Ts it a gem, half bird, 



Or is it a bird, half gem?' " 



— Edgar Fawcett. 



SEPTEMBER 



There is something wistful in the notes of the birds preparing to depart. In 

 the woods we see — 



. "A Httle bird in suit 

 ^ Of sombre olive, soft and brown, 



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