The Cecil Whig., 1881-06-04

about the mould. Vegetable cruStaceans
they arc, extending their tcntacles in
search of food. Great mother. if these
bantings of the oak, the beech, and the
maple squirm and twist, and find their
cradles too short and too narrow, what
will become of them by and by, when
they require more room for exercise and
more abundant nutrition? Wherewithal
will yo,i feed and clothe themo Think of
the vast praires, where you haven the
shadow of Il tree. Consider if you cannot
transplant some of this surplus popula-
tion in its infancy.
The old trees, | see have recorded
another year. letting out their tough
bark girdles to accommodate the new
layer of muscle and adipose. The sap
now takes to its capillary ladders, climb
ing slowly, slowly; encouraged if the sun
shine, faltering and retreating with every
relapse of keen weather. What an
Odyss it has /" accomplish, from the
roots of the tree to the last bud on the
outermost twig.
Who will read lis the idyl Of The Sugar
Bush: Let us hear no more of the honey
of Hyble. OF the Gates that lIebe and
Ganymede served up to the Olympians.
Shakespeare may have meant the spring
harvest of the maple when he said, >
"Why then comes in the sweet o the year,
4 l,n ro1 hI,,l in fl,. tar's
pale
This is the only tree we have that ''Sweats
honey Into its veins. as into the veins
of heroes. the gods have infused ambro-
sia. Had the maple been Indigenous in
| Greece. there would have been a special
myth regarding it, Il special custodian
appointed to watch over the sacred grove.
Perhaps Pan would have figured rs the
first sap-gatherer, the first refincr of
sugar. The legend would then have run
| thus: Pan taught the Arcadians to pierce
| the forest maple, opening its veins with
sharp steel and in the mouth of the
wound inserting the reed which he was
wont to blow upon; through this the i'm
mortal ichorof the tree distilled, drop by
drop, into Il pitcher of wreathen gold and
silver. lent by the wondering Baachantes
who stood near with Silenus nearly as
| tonished into soberness. Pan then built
fire of sere wood, and having poured
| the immortal ichor into Il vessel of iron
stepped it for many hours, obtaining a
honey-sweet, heart-easing cordial, of
which many gods and mortals partook
with great delight.
| There is telegraphy in the air nova
days: hourly, momentary, messages fly
| ing between the busy rural genii. These
messages may be taken off" at any sta
| ton along the route where there is a prac-
ticed operator, an intelligent and sympa
| thetic ear. One hears of the mysterious
trysts kept between botany and zoology
| of plants waking up by alarm clocks,
and of birds travelling by midnight ex-
press, on receipt of expected dispatches
| from headquarters. | occasionally hear
| Flora and Fauna exchanging the compli-
nents Of the season, and such pleasant
| gossip as naturally results from their
near neighhorly relations;
! fuphu. have Just sent milnow up
! the creek.
t2oro. I've been bossoming out a pussy
willow there by the bank.
And after an interval:
tauna. venture bluebird.
Flora. Good. I'll risk blue violet in
the south meadow.
| And still later:
Fauna. If you listen. this evening, you
will hear 4 frog in the marsh.
F7oru Tomorrow shall send you 4
basket of cowslips.
! Fnunn Thanks. ! am Just starting
out hive Of bees. Would you like the III
to scatter pollen?
There is no cessation of this correspond
ence throughout the season. The mu-
tual consent and joint plannings of the
two friendly goddesses are everywhere
observable. 1t is to be noticed that for
every bird that becomes whist and mop
ing, after the height of summer is passed,
some plant will be found putting on sack
cloth and ashes, and absenting itself from
Flora court for the rest Of the year
Severe and protracted as the winter
may have been, three chief pioneer birds,
robin. song sparrow, and blucbird, do
Al, l..
after spring. How curiously elate the
first robin is! Q"i rire Qui cire. he
whistles from the maple tops, Ell the
morning following his return. His song
is the same As the thrush sang to the
| poet Keats, on a spring morning. sixty
years ago:
"oh, fret not after knowledge. have none,
And Yet my song comes native with the
warmth.
Oh, fret not after knowledge | have none,
And yet the ere"ing liSten$.'
He seems as one prepared to take all
weather risks. His well-feathered plump
ness readily suggests that he has made
it point to build upa good physique
against the initial hardships of spring
campaign on the shores of Lake Erie
Does he return to his quarters of las,
year-hs substantial adobe house in the
fork of the apple tree9 a friend of mine
reports finding robins nest with base
ground floor, and chamber. three success
sive stories of good solid mason work
built in as many successive springs. the
last story only being tenanted the cur
rent season. Whether this stronghold
was in the possession of the original line
of builders could not be determined.
The bluebird arrives but little later
than the robin, if, indeed he does not
come by the same train. All, the blue
birds warbe, If any bird is specially
commissioned By Heaven to spread the
+ spring evangel, it is he. Yet, like the
Ariel spirit that he is, there is, at first, {;
touch of ventriloquism in his voice. Tt
fix his whereabouts, we look not only
s'hefore and after" but overhead, ant
in the bushes, and along the grass, ;tnt
see him not-at first. If he "bears the
, sky on his back as Thoreau thought
it must be the sky of Italy: the heaven,
are never SO blue over this region of thu
earth. There is red enough on his breas
to have distinguished him as red breast
, had it not been for the more pronounced
azure of his wings.