The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1874-05-07

Ter, Win splCeLul, rasplng cold, that de-
lights in irritating the skin and raising
blister on the temper. Where does the
early bird lodge on such nights at the
beginning Of the season. II seems as
though he must make his nest in Gods
own hand.
1t is inexpressib'y pleasant to hear the
hrst chirpings, peepIngs and tw ltterings
of these wide-awake songsters, about
stone walls and stubble fields and the
sunniest spots in the orchard. Watch
them as they light on the rails of the
fence and hop along, their pink toes
spread wide, stopping to nip little bit
OF l'chen or to dress and cleanse the IN
der part or the wings. What indepen-
dent, undaunted little creatures :hey are
The first song bird. I hold is as mirac-
Nous as j. nah's gourd It's instincts.
mode of existence, its very being, are a
MYSTERY. There it sits at home ON tie
limb of your gnarlod apple-tree, chock
full OF adventures and experience CT trav-
ell you would give your eyes to know,
and pouring all out in altapgled, careless
strain Of music, from heart Drumming
over with joy. There he sits, the John
Baptis. of spring, and prophesies to the
woods and fields, saying Prepare ye the
way Of the anemone and tho violet, the
clover top and the daisy"
The little fellow must shiver and moan
we fancy, in that sour weather of which
so much that we can call the spring is
composed. whom even the first grass
bladeS look as If they longed to creep
back into the earth for protection. But
never comes cry or groan from our hero
You will bear him singing on the skirts
of snow-squall, when his toes must ache
with cold, as if he had found rift in the
cloud where the peace of heaven was
smiling down into his heart. With no
visible means of support, with no abiding
place, who can tell bus he drinks of the
river OF life, and picks the berries of the
tree that grows Oh its borders?
The more his step-damt, March, scolds
the little fellow, the more he quirks hie
head and dresses his feathers. and give,
quick, defiant g!ances with his bright
eyes. See him on plum-tree bougb,
picking gum from the smooth purple
limbs, while the wind ruffies his feathers
with an ungeptle hand. Still he cling
with his tenacious pink claws, and then
takes a short flight, warbling and
, twittering on the wing, as If the song
would not allow itself to be repressed.
One bird cannot make summer, but
he becomes hostage for flowers, and
grass, and leaves. A fountain of hope
bubbles up in the withered field when
the first bird song is heard. Winter
. sears the imagination, and we forget in
variably how beautiful the spring time is
1t comes to US each year as a fresh sur
prise. When the first bird sings about your
a caves, we have the evidence of things un.
seen. Somewhere enough wonder, work
Jag power remains to fashion bird and
fill its heart with music, i'd all things
become possible to God.
The little songster puts in an early
appearance, perhaps because he can see
farther and learn the lay of the LAND bet.
tee before the countryside is clustered
with foliage and shade. Then when he
has got his bearings, he is content to lei
the grass grow under his feet.
remember child's account of the
creation of the blueblrd, which. though il
does not agree with the received opinions
of naturalists, has certain significance
She said: "After God had got him mos.
made, He cut of little piece of sky for
his jacket" Their is a poetic touch in
this any one will appreciate who has
! observed the rapid, impulsive flight OF
/. the blueb;rd as he dips and circles round,
throwing spray of light from his grace
full wing. Ther, indeed, he does seem
like bit of animated sky.
-~M~
MEXICAN CURIOSITIES.