104 
NATURE NOTES. 
sunshine, her drought and her moisture. It is supposed also to 
be a race between the oak and the ash, and various portends are 
foretold along the country side when the oak is first in leaf. Yet 
who can tell what will happen in this climate of ours ? The 
gradations from winter to spring are so fine and so subtle that 
any one trusting to this or that sign is sure to incur a bitter 
disappointment. “ One swallow does not make a summer,” 
and neither this flower nor that, neither one songster nor the 
other is conclusive proof that “ winter is over and gone.” 
Those who watch Nature closely know that occasionally she 
“ plays fantastic tricks ” that make, if not the angels, at any rate 
the farmers and the holiday-makers weep. A week’s continuous 
wet or a week’s continuous dry heat, make all the difference. 
There is an uniformity over all no doubt in the end, but the bitter 
east wind to which we are so liable at this season often makes 
confusion worse confounded among the harbingers of spring. 
Charles Worte. 
JACK: A BIOGRAPHY. 
(Concluded from page 92.) 
SVERY member of my family is devoted to fur and 
feathers in any shape ; the household we had then 
were quite as fond of the dumb creation as ourselves, 
and Jack’s appearance, too, asked for great kindness, 
both to mind and body. But out of all the kind hands and hearts 
trying to make happiness for the small black waif suddenly 
thrust into the midst of the family. Jack chose the writer of 
this article for his friend, and having made his choice became 
absolutely indifferent to all the other members of the house- 
hold. I say Jack was absolutely indifferent to all the rest of 
the household, but there was one exception — and there Jack 
showed that he could hate as heartily as he could love, and 
apparently with no more reason for his enmity than for his 
love. Jack was courteous by nature, and rarely allowed a 
kindness or a civility to pass unacknowledged. But he was 
actually demonstrative to no one but me. Was I absent from 
home for a few hours Jack’s voice was silent, and the fun was 
gone out of life for the time — for him. He moped about silently, 
trying to amuse himself in really lugubrious fashion till my 
voice or step was heard, and then it was touching to see his joy ! 
Half-fluttering, half-scrambling over the ground he came to 
meet me, uttering a succession of delighted “Jacks,” and then 
crouched down on the ground before me, coaxing to be taken up 
and caressed. It was impossible to ignore him, and not till 
Jack had had all the attention he wanted would he consent to 
