How delightful were the first indications of the coming spring! How
joyously our young Crusoes heard the first tapping of the redheaded
woodpecker, the low, sweet, warbling note of the early song-sparrow, and
twittering chirp of the snow-bird, or that neat quakerly-looking bird, that
comes to cheer us with the news of sunny days and green buds, the low,
tender, whispering note of the chiccadee, flitting among the pines or in
the thick branches of the shore-side trees! The chattering note of the
little striped chitmunk, as it pursued its fellows over the fallen trees,
and the hollow sound of the male partridge heavily striking his wings
against his sides to attract the notice of the female birds--were among the
early spring melodies, for such they seemed to our forest dwellers, and for
such they listened with eager ears, for they told them--
"That winter, cold winter, was past,
And that spring, lovely spring, was approaching at last."
They watched for the first song of the robin, [Footnote: _Turdus
miyratorius_, or American robin.
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