No bird-
note can surpass it as a spring token; and as it is not mentioned,
to my knowledge, by the poets and writers of other lands, I am
ready to believe it is characteristic of our season alone. You may
be sure April has really come when this little amphibian creeps out
of the mud and inflates its throat. We talk of the bird inflating
its throat, but you should see this tiny minstrel inflate _its_
throat, which becomes like a large bubble, and suggests a drummer-
boy with his drum slung very high. In this drum, or by the aid of
it, the sound is produced. Generally the note is very feeble at
first, as if the frost was not yet all out of the creature's
throat, and only one voice will be heard, some prophet bolder than
all the rest, or upon whom the quickening ray of spring has first
fallen. And it often happens that he is stoned for his pains by the
yet unpacified element, and is compelled literally to "shut up"
beneath a fall of snow or a heavy frost. Soon, however, he lifts up
his voice again with more confidence, and is joined by others and
still others, till in due time, say toward the last of the month,
there is a shrill musical uproar, as the sun is setting, in every
marsh and bog in the land. It is a plaintive sound, and I have
heard people from the city speak of it as lonesome and depressing,
but to the lover of the country it is a pure spring melody. The
little piper will sometimes climb a bulrush, to which he clings
like a sailor to a mast, and send forth his shrill call.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104