EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 169 
vegetation, our life seems reduced to its lowest 
terms. But let a bluebird come and warble 
over them, and what a change ! The note of 
the first bluebird in the air answers to the purl¬ 
ing rill of melted snow beneath. It is evidently 
soft and soothing, and, as surely as the ther¬ 
mometer, indicates a higher temperature. It is 
the accent of the south wind, its vernacular. It 
is modulated by the south wind. 
The song-sparrow is more sprightly, mingling 
its notes with the rustling of the brush along 
the water sides, but it is at the same time more 
terrene than the bluebird. The first wood¬ 
pecker comes screaming into the empty house, 
and throws open doors and windows wide, call¬ 
ing out each of them to let the neighbors know 
of its return. But heard farther off it is very 
suggestive of ineffable associations, which can¬ 
not be distinctly recalled, of long-drawn summer 
hours, and thus it also has the effect of music. 
I was not aware that the capacity to hear the 
woodpecker had slumbered within me so long. 
When the blackbird gets to a conqueree he seems 
to be dreaming of the sprays that are to be and 
on which he will perch. The robin does not 
come singing, but utters a somewhat anxious 
or inquisitive peep at first. The song-sparrow 
is immediately most at home of those I have 
named. 
