The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1855-04-27
MIS- SCELLAN NEOUS.
THE BIRDS OF SPRING.
By WASHINGTON IRVING.

Ny quiet residence in the country, aloo
from fashion, politics, and the money mark
ct, leaves me rather at loss for occupation
and drives mo occasionally to the study o
nature, and other low pursuits. Having
lew nsighbors, on whom 10 keep watot
and exercise my habits Of observation, fair
to amuse myself with prying into tho domss'
tic concerns, and peculiarities Of the animals
around me and, during the present season
havo derived considerable entertainment
from certain sociable little birds, almost the
only visitors We have, during this early part
Of the year.
Those who have passed the winter in the
country, are sensible of the delightful in
fluences that accompany the earliest indica-
tons of spring, and Of these, none are more
delightful than tho frst notes Of the bird.
There is one modest little sad-colored bird,
much resembling q wren, came labout the
house just on tho skirts Of winter, when not
q blade Of grass Was to be seen, and when a
few prematurely warm days had given o
Hattering foretaste ofsoft weather. lie sang
early in tho dawning, long before sunrise,
and late in the evening, just before the clos
ing in Of night, his matin and his vespsr
hymns. It 10 true, he sang occasionally
throughout the day; but at these still hours
his song was more remarked. lie sat on n
leaness tree, just before the window, and
warbed furth his notes, few and simrls, but
.ingularly sweet, with something Of a plain.
tive iopo that heightened their effect.
The first morning that he was heard, was
joyous one among the young folks OF my
household. The long, death-liko sleep OF
winter was at an end nature was once
moro awakening; they now promised them
selves the immediate appearance Of buds
aad blossoms. | was reminded of the
tempest tossed crew of Columbus, when af-
ter their long dubious voyage. the field-birds
came singing round tho ship, though still
far at sea, rejoicing thom with the belief Of
the immediate proximity Of land. A sharp
return Of winter almost slenced my little
songster, and dashed the hilarity of the
household yet still he poured forth now
and then, a few plaintiye notes, between the
frosty pipings of the breeze, like CLEANS OF
sunshine between win'ery clouds.
have consulted my books of ornithology
in vain, to find out the name of this kindly
little bird, who certainly deserves honor and
favor far beyond his modest pretsnsicns
lie comes like the lowly violet, the most
unpreteuding, but welcomest Of flowers,
breathing the sweet promises of the carly
year. -,
Another OF our feathered visitors, who
follow. close upon the steps Of winter, is
the Pewit, or 'Peevee, or PhGbe.bird, for
he is called by each Of these names, from q
fancied resemblance to the sound OF his
mouotonous note. He is social little be-
ing, and seeks the habi,ation Of men. A
pair of them have built beneath my porch,
and have reared several broods tho for two
years past, their nest never being disturb
ed. They arrive early in the spring. just
when the crocus and snowdrop begin to
peep forth. Their first chirp spreads glad
mes. through the house. The "Ph0be.
birds have come !" is heard on all sides
They are welcomed hack like members OF
the family, and speculations are made upon
where they have been during their long
absence. Their arrival is the most cheer
ing, as it is announced by the old weather
wise people OF the country, the sure sign.
that the severe frosts are at an end, and
that the gardener may resume his labors
with confidence. mt
About this time, too, arrives the Blue
bird, so POLITICALLY yet truly described by
Wilson. His appearance gladdsns the
whole landscape. He sociably approaches
YOUR habi'ation, and takes up his residence
in your vicinity.
The happicss bird OF our spring, however
and one that rivals the European lark in my
estimation, is the Boblincoln, or Boblink, as
no j, commonly called. He arrive at that
choice portion Of our year which IN tins i,s'
i.udc, answers to the description OF the
month Of May 80 onen given by the poets.
With US it begins about the middle OF May,
and lasts until nearly tho middle Of June.
Earlier than this winter is apt to return on
Is traces. and to blight the opening beauties
of the year, and later than this begin the
parching, and painting, and d'solving heats
of summer. But in this genial interval
nature is in oil her freshness and fragrance.
"The rain. are over and gone, the flowers
appear upon the earth, the time OF singing
OF birds 10 come, and the voice oil the turtle
/, heard in the land" The trees arc now
in their fullest, foliage and brightest verdure
the woods are gay with the clustered flowers
of the laurel the air is perfumed by the
sweet briar and tho wild rose the meadow.
are enameled with clover blossoms while
the young apple, tho peach, and tho plum
begin to swell, and the cherry to glow
among the green leaves.
This is the chosen season OF revelry ol
the Bobliuk. lie comes amidst tho pomp
and fragrance Of the season his life seem 8
all sensibility and enjoyment, all song and
sunshine. lie is to be found in the Soft
bosoms of the freshest and sweetest mead
ows, and is most in song when the clover is
in blossom. He perches on tho topnost
twig Of tree, or on some long Haunting
weed, and, rs he rises and sinks with the
breeze, pours fourth succession OF rich
twinklin notes, crowding one upon another
like the outpouring melody Of the skylark,
and possessing the rapturous character
Sometimes he pitches from tho summit Of a
tree. begins his song rs soon rs he gets up
on the wing, and autters tremulously down
to the earth. Us if overcome with eostacy ut
his own music. Sometimes he Is in pursuit
Of his paramour, always in full song, rs II
he would win her by his melody, and al-
ways with the same appearance Of intoxica.
ton and delight.
OF all the birds ofour groves and mead
ows, the Boblink was the envy Of my boy
hood. He crossed my path in the sweetest
weather, and sweetest season Of the year,
when all nature called to the fields, and the
rural feelings ,hrobbod in every bosom; bnt
when |, lucklcss urchin. Was doomed to be
mewed up during the live-lons day in that
purgatory Of boyhood, sehool.room, 1t
seemed ss If the ssrlet Knocked at me, - hs
few BY in full song, and sought TO tauns mo