The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1880-06-03
A May Day in New England.


And now all the earth is awake. The
birds are brave and bright in their
counting time, and any day one may
see the robins making each others ac-
quaintance and consulting on their nest
ing places. Sometimes pair of birds
are constant foryears in succession to
one habitation, but not as a rule, for
to the creatures of the air, whose build
ing is a matter of a few sticks and
feathers and light flotsam of the yards,
a new location is a matter of no mo-
ment-the young birds will grow as well
in this apple-tree as in that-or the old
elm will do, if the maple isn't what the
mother bird wants. In the spring the
last seasons nests still cling on the
boughs, testifying to the skill of their
builders, which has fastened them so
strongly against the winter storms.
Here isS robins nest easily told by the
firm grasp it has of two firm boughs,
for the robin never chooses his airy an
chorage on a slight holding. On yon
tree is ahang-bird's deep pocket, where
no intruder ever steals a refuge, and
and this the artiticers are almost sure to
repossess. The wretched foreigner from
England mistakenly imported some
years ago makes it miserable for our
home birds in all the outskirts of the
cities. Often have Iseen the bold robin,
hopping in the new-turned furrow after
grubs and angle-worms, set upon by a
pair of these black-headed sparrows,
and, never striking a blow in his own
defense, give up the field to them in
manifest disgust. Our robin is no sem
timentalist-hed does not object to little
family fight once in while,-but when
it comes to the petty nagging of these
little villains from England, he feels it
beneath his dignity to engage in quar-
rel so obviously without let-up. The
robins are plenty now all over the coun-
try, and the red-winged blackbirds
along the water-courses, the yellow
birds in the brushy roadsides, the red
headed woodpeckers on the old oaks
and Notwithstanding in their
useful fashion-the crows flying heavily
across country, cawing after the ex-
pected corn, the crow-blackDirdss stalk
ing solemnly over the meadows,-are
vocal of the Weakened earth and the
eternal life of nature.
No one passes over the fields and
marks the petite houstonia smiling in
the innocence that gives it a popular
name, and here and there a sunny dam
delion or hasty buttercup. The blood
roots snow over the brown leaves, the
skyey hepatica, the earliest herb-robert
on the rocks, bidding farewell to the
late arbutus of the piney knobs; the
new white hoods of the dielytra among
the uncurling ferns and the yellow wood
violet beneath the beeches,-all these
are ready for the lovers fondling APP
proach. How infinitely generous is the
benevolence of earth,-denying moth
ing to the true familiar, and giving so
much to those who know only the exte-
rior of her bounty and never have felt
the deep rhythm of her heart.
Within her springy copses hid
Wakes slowly the dear life of earth,
Each blossom as it opes its lid
EnglOries its enchanting BIRTH
Sweet is the bud, and rich amid
The springing green the blossoms worth
The world smiles on the ardent day;
1t is the open face of spring,
The faithful tenderness of Nav,
That coaxes all the birds TO sing.
What gracious heart could fail to say
Let all with earth's winged chorus singh
Springfield (lAasS.) Republican.