These rugged, wintry days I scarce could bear, Did I not know, that, in the early spring, When wild March winds upon their errands sing, Thou wouldst return, bursting on this still air Like those same winds, when, startled from their lair, They hunt up violets, and free swift brooks From icy cares, even as thy clear looks Bid my heart bloom, and sing, and break all care: When drops with welcome rain the April day, My flowers shall find their April in thine eyes, Save there the rain in dreamy clouds doth stay, As loath to fall out of those happy skies; Yet sure, my love, thou art most like to May, That comes with steady sun when April dies. --_Lowell._ THE PROCESSION OF SPRING. A morning of radiant lids O'er the dance of the earth opened wide; The bees chose their flowers, the snub kids Upon hind legs went sportive, or plied, Nosing, hard at the dugs to be filled; There was milk, honey, music to make; Up their branches the little birds billed; Chirrup, drone, bleat, and buzz ringed the lake. O shining in sunlight, chief After water and water's caress, Was the young bronze orange leaf, That clung to the trees as a tress, Shooting lucid tendrils to wed With the vine hook tree or pole, Like Arachne launched out on her thread. Then the maiden her dusky stole, In the span of the black-starred zone, Gathered up for her footing fleet. As one that had toil of her own She followed the lines of wheat Tripping straight through the field, green blades, To the groves of olive gray, Downy gray, golden-tinged; and to glades Where the pear blossom thickens the spray In a night, like the snow-packed storm; Pear, apple, almond, plum; Not wintry now; pushing warm. And she touched them with finger and thumb, As the vine hook closes; she smiled, Recounting again and again, Corn, wine, fruit, oil! like a child, With the meaning known to men. --_George Meredith._ [Illustration: AMERICAN BITTERN. 1/3 Life-size. From COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON A. M. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO. COPYRIGHT 1900, BY NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.] THE AMERICAN BITTERN (_Botaurus lentiginosus._) This curious bird has several local names. It is called the "stake-driver," "booming bittern," and "thunder-pumper," in consequence of its peculiar cry. It was once thought that this noise was made by using a hollow reed, but the peculiar tone is possibly due to the odd shaped neck of the bird. Gibson says you hear of the stake-driver but can not find his "stake."