MID-MARCH 
5 ' 
But what is the regulation of the Post Office on the matter ? 
“ No living creature, nor anything likely to injure any officer 
of the Post Office, may be sent by post at all. If it be tendered 
at a Post Office it is refused, or if detected in transit it is 
detained. The contents are liable to be dealt with in such 
manner as the Postmaster-General may direct, and the sender 
is liable to prosecution by the Department.” 
If it be distinctly understood that the senders are liable to 
prosecution, and if the regulation be enforced with due severity, 
the cruel practice of sending living creatures by post will 
perhaps be stopped. 
A. L. O. N. 
MID-MARCH. 
new year is waking into life. Winter will not indeed 
give way to the coming spring without yet another 
hard struggle or two, and for a time may perhaps make 
‘ ‘ a stand, but it cannot be for long. The sweet breath 
of the spring-tide can be felt in the air ; the slumberous time 
is past and gone. 
A ladybird is found sunning itself on some warm sheltered 
bank, or perhaps a humble-bee swings past with his loud cheery 
hum on his way to the sallow bushes whose beautiful downy 
catkins are a great attraction to many insects. Every day now 
brings some new and welcome sight, sound, or scent to our 
notice, as one creature after another is brought under the 
influence of the sunbeams, and feels their quickening power. 
The honey bees have found out the crocuses and are revelling 
in their sweetness. It would be hard to find anything much 
more beautiful than a yellow crocus seen in the clear morning 
light, growing, not in a flower bed, but on grass or moss. The 
liquid glowing colour of the petals seems to light up not only 
the whole plant but its surroundings also. Unnoticed, the 
humble but pretty ground ivy has already started into growth, 
and is creeping about the more sheltered hedge banks. Here, 
too, the fresh vivid green of the “ lords and ladies,” chickweed. 
and sheep’s parsley begins to show through the bleached grass 
stems of the past year. Here and there the lesser celandine has 
unfolded its glistening yellow petals, gladdening our eyes with 
its beauty as it shines like a jewel amid its setting of deep rich 
green. 
No summer birds have as yet arrived, unless it be a stray 
wheatear here and there, nor have the winter migrants departed. 
The harsh savage call of the grey crow is still heard as he wings 
his way overhead. Turning his head from side to side he scans 
the ground beneath with his piercing gaze in search of something 
to satisfy his hunger. Flocks of fieldfares still wander restlessly 
