IT is truly said that March “comes in like a lion," yet with it comes the bright hope of spring. If to-day dark clouds or thick fogs hide the morning sun and shut out his genial warmth; or the winds whistle and a terrible storm drives headlong the black clouds above, tearing up stubborn old trees that have stood the blast of a hundred years, and brings them to the ground with a crash that makes the very earth to tremble, to-morrow the whole heavens may be clear and bright, the sun may greet you with his cheery rays, and you may joyfully exclaim, "Spring has really come at last.”
In natural things as in spiritual, HOPE is a blessed gift. When the storms roar and the tempests howl; or the cold rain and sleet make you a prisoner in the house, HOPE whispers, "A few more boisterous days or weeks at most, and all will be changed, the sky will be serene, the air mild, and the warm rays of the sun once more clothe the earth with her long lost beauty.”
When you grow a few years older you will find life very much like a boisterous spring. Sorrows and trials, and deep griefs, as well as pleasures and joys, may be your lot, but if you have heard the voice of the Lord Jesus speaking to your own heart, perhaps in its bitterest moments, and saying, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," oh, what a link that will make between Him and your soul, and what a bright blessed HOPE will He Himself become in your little hearts!
But once more to the lanes and woods and fields. Don't forget I desire most of all that you should use well your own eyes and ears; and if I tell you a few things you may see or hear, there is no end of beautiful wonders to find out-sights and sounds, every one of which will give you real pleasure, and profit too, if you will closely observe.
Unless the season is very late you will find everything that has life now full of activity; seeds begin to open out; branches which seemed dead put forth tender buds, and the beautiful green grass everywhere springs up out of the earth. We see all nature preparing to restore verdure to the fields, leaves to the trees, and the long lost flowers to the gardens.
All the winter sleepers are now awake and busily at work. What a pleasure it would give you to find out all the birds that are truly English, that is, that live and die here; and then the insects and small animals and birds too, that creep into holes and corners, and sleep away all the cold days and nights of winter and to find out those birds that come flying across the seas with spring, are our cheerful visitors all the summer, build their nests, rear their young, and then fly away to warmer lands when autumn's cold winds begin to blow.
You have all listened to the croaking of the frogs. What a queer continuous half musical sound it is! On marshy grounds it is heard in all directions.
Once I passed through a long dreary swamp in America. There these croakers grow much larger than with us: they seemed to be there in millions, and for miles the sound was perfectly distracting. What amusement it will give you to watch them splashing and swimming in the ponds, and then remaining quite still and staring at you with their great eyes!
Soon you will see curious clusters of jelly-looking matter containing little black spots. If you put some of this into a vessel of water, in a short time you will see it turn into little tadpoles; and what boy has not watched these funny creatures with their thick heads and wagging tails, change their shape: first come out two front legs, then two hind ones, then they seem to lose their tail and change their head, and at last they come out perfect little frogs.
The picture you have before you will give a good idea of this curious change. First, you see the tadpole pure, without any legs, only a small fin near its head, something like a fish; then the fin is dropped and a couple of little legs appear in front; then you see the little fellow, looking as important as a boy when he gets his first pair of trowsers on, and he is looking at the great full-grown frog as though he would soon be as big as he.
But hark! what is that little clear distinct sound, tap, tap, tap; tap, tap, tap, exactly like the sharp stroke of a very small hammer? By diligently following the sound you will find a beautifully colored bird clinging not very elegantly to the trunk of a tree. His head is upwards, and slowly he marches, on goes his bill peck, peck, peck, and you wonder whatever he is after. Well, his peculiar work has given him the name of Woodpecker. He has two objects before him-to find sleeping insects on which he feeds, and then to find a suitable place for a nest. Insects are found in decayed trees, and he works from tree to tree till he finds either a tree or part of one where insects have eaten into its very heart. The Woodpecker has a strong wedge-shaped bill, and a long hair-tipped tongue. With the former he pierces the decayed wood, where he finds quantities of insects, and with the latter he sweeps them into his mouth.
The Woodpecker has been called a clever carpenter, because of the peculiar nest he builds. Having discovered a suitable spot, he cuts out a perfectly circular hole in the solid wood, he works downwards in a standing direction for about seven inches, and then straight down for about twelve inches more.
We present you here with a beautiful illustration of how the Woodpecker carries on his work. The one on the right hand you see is clinging to the tree; he is not in the act of picking, but looking as if he were descending tail first; for it is a curious fact that when he comes down the tree he never turns round, but always keeps his head upwards and runs down backwards.
As to the female bird, half out and half in the entrance to her nest, you must suppose a slice cut out of the side of the tree in order to show you the nice snug little nest at the bottom.
The opening is just large enough to admit the body of the bird, but inside it is much larger. Both male and female work at this, and when it is completed and the nest made, the female lays six beautifully white eggs.
Perhaps this is the month, especially towards the end, when all English birds sing most sweetly, and it is the time when they are the most busy not an idler is to be found, and the harder they work the sweeter they sing. If you want to find pleasure in the woods, the fields and lanes, get to know the thrush, robin, wren, hedge-sparrow, the linnet, goldfinch, and blackbird. Each has its peculiar song, and every one has its own ways and habits, from which, but specially in nest building and brood rearing, you will find something to learn as well as to please.
But not the birds only are busy, insects innumerable are called out by the increasing warmth of the sun. Bees too, and there are many kinds of them begin their ingenious and useful labors. Wasps, butterflies, gnats, spiders, beetles, and moths are also busy by night and by day, for they too at this time, like the birds, have to provide for their young.
And how much might I not say about the gardens, and their flowers and shrubs sowing of seeds, planting of bulbs and dressing of beds!
Here is plenty of work, and pleasure too, for every spare moment, and then there are the frisking lambs, and the busy labors of the farmer and his men in the fields; sowing of seed and manuring of land In short the toils of the year have began in real earnest, and the bird or insect or man that toils not now will suffer loss all the year round.
And remember this is your spring time, and your whole life will be shaped by what you now do or neglect to do.