The Newtown bee., 1908-05-22
SPRING-TIME.
BY E. L. JOHNSON.

BY E. l.. JOHNSON.
 The woodchucks; from their Winter
 sleep, Come forth, and OCT the hillside
 creep.
 Far off, we hear the foxes bark,
 And, from the tree, the meadow larl Sends forth its cheerful, we'll know
 voice
 And helps the awakening world reioice The robin red breasts cheerful soni In notes comes to us, clear and strong How sweet the blue birds cheerfu
 notes,
 As warbled from their tiny threats. On evening air long. clear and shril Come sweet notes of the whip-poor
 will.
 From chimney's dusky throat is heard The thunder of the chimney bird. The quail, who, on the fence does sit Will whistle shrill and loud, "mort wet" In far off wood we hear "per- wink, " And soon will come the "bob-o-link. '' Far up o'er head, with noisy cry, In order, focks of wild geese" fly. The capering lamb. the frisky calf, The school-boy with his hearty laugh The blithesome girl. so full of hope, Who plays ''jack-stones" or jump . the rope"
 The gobbler, strutting round so proud. Who gobbles long and gobbles loud The quacking ducks, that never rest, In early morning quack their best. While proudly round the barnyard sail The peacocks with their bright long .,E tails. ...M ..... The muskrat, with its wealth of fur. Does from its Winters ice bed stir, And, with its little, bead like eyes, Look sharply round to seize some prize. The toad, in garden, shows its head So stupid now, it seems half dead; But. when he feels the warmth of sun, How quickly for the flies he'll run. The house cat, watching at some hole To catch the first unlucky mole; The fluffy chicks with mother hen; The little piggies in the pen; The boy who flies his long tailed kite, While standing on some lofty height; The little girl. who makes mud pies, The barefoot boy, of larger size, The partridge in the woods that drum All, all proclaim that Spring has come. School boys, from willow, bark do take And, with their jack knives, whistles
 make,
 While little boy, with pin for hook, Hies gaily off. to some small brook, With crooked alder snag, for pole, He'll patient stand by some deep hole; Old backing box he'll have for bait, And there he'll fish, and patient wait, I hen carry home more fish at night Than he who comes from city bright. With patent bait box, rod and reel And gaily dressed from head to heel. | The sWamps will soon to us unfold Their wealth of oowslips tipped with |
 gold While from beneath some swampy bog We'll hear the croaking of the frog. How gracefully the alder's sag, As hang from boughs the alder's "tag" The pussy willows fall in line; Their countless buds like silver shine. The turtles voice is in the land Their mighty concert, oh how grand. The angler with his girl goes out, With rod and reel, to fish for trout. The loved and loving. soon will hie To some secluded spot, so shy, And roam about through field and brush l To hear the singing of tie thrush And gather from their rocky nest The choicest wild flowers and the best. | low quickly, they, "spring beauty"
 see, Long side the frail "Anemone. The Adder tongue, whose graceful
 head
 Hangs dropping by the brooklet's bed /; The violets wild, whose dark, deep hue, lies with the azure skies so blue; While up the rocky steeps they climb To pluck the scarlet columbine Ind romp OCT hills with willing feet To gather the arbutus sweet; hen seat them in some shady nook 'o watch the dancing, babbling brook lor take much heed how Time does
 fly
 While they plan on for "By and Bye" l i'll out of sight fast goes the sun 1 'efore their talk they half have done. low slowly homeward they will ride IS warm hearts batter side by side Tor who could blame if joy like this Vas wound up with bouncing kiss. low we who've been there all uo know ! llthough it was so long ago low much of,joy such trips do bring 0 warm young hearts when comes the