In New England Fields and Woods

not herald the coming of spring, but attend its vanguard. These blithe musicians accompany the soft air that bares th

of spring is felt or the voice of a freed stream is heard, comes that sable pursuivant, the crow, fighting his way against the fierce north wind, tossed alow and aloft, buffe

weary days of waiting for its fulfillment, while the bold herald is beset by storm and pinched

n windless depths of woodland; bares for him there a rood of sward or stubble whereon to find some crumb of comfort; leaves for him ungathered apples on t

ut or aerial scout watches the farmer plant the corn and awaits its sprouting into the dainty tidbits, a fondness for whose sweetness is his overmastering weakness. For this he braves the terrible scarecrow and the dread mystery of the cornfield's lined boundary, for this risks life and forfeits th

e softer game of love, whereunto you hear the harsh voice attuned in clut

; but woe betide the hawk who ventures near, or owl who dares to sound his hollow trumpet in the sacred precincts. At the first alarm signal, as suddenly and mysteriously as Robi

ant source of anxiety to parents and kindred. But in the late summer, when the youngsters have come to months of discretion and the elders are freed from the bondage of their care, a long holiday begins for all the

n sagging wing through the sunshine from chosen field to chosen wo

flecking the blue sky with pulsating dots of blackness, the green earth with wavering shadows. Sadly we wa