EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 295 
warbling, helps fill the air, and the phebe does 
her part. The tree-sparrow, Fringilla hiemalis, 
and fox-colored sparrows make the meadow- 
sides or gardens where they are flitting, yocal, 
the first with its canary-like twittering, the sec¬ 
ond, with its lively ringing trills or jingle. 
The third is a very sweet and more powerful 
singer, which would be memorable if we heard 
him long enough. The woodpecker’s tapping, 
though not musical, suggests pleasant associa¬ 
tions in the cool morning, is inspiriting, enliv¬ 
ening. I hear no hylas nor croakers in the 
morning. Is it too cool for them ? The gray 
branches of the oaks, which have lost still more 
of their leaves, seen against the pines when the 
sun is rising and falling on them, how rich and 
interesting! Hear the faint, swelling, far-off 
beat of a partridge. 
p. M. To Second Division Brook. .... All 
along on the south side of this hill, on the edge 
of the meadow, the air resounds with the hum 
of honey bees, attracted by the flower of the 
skunk-cabbage. I first heard the fine, peculiarly 
sharp hum of the honey bee before I thought 
of them. Some hummed hollowly within the 
spatlie, perchance to give notice to their fellows 
that the plant was occupied, for they repeatedly 
looked in and backed out on finding another. 
It was surprising to see them directed by their 
