The people's journal. (Coudersport, Pa.) 1850-1857, April 05, 1855, Image 1

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    VOL. VII
pEOPLE , B JOURNAL.
tistisitEn r:vettv THURSDAY MORNING.
BY _ADD' iON AVERY.
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THE FIRESIDE
When the snow-flakes softly rustle .
On the dirkened window pane,
And the nigh. winds moan and murmur
In wi d and 11.1111 s:rain!
Oh! how we come .s ilutt cheerful, •
Brigh.iy burning, ruddy tight,
Glowing fro:u the evening fireside,
Glowing, ep ricing, warm and bright!
flow the mellow beams are dancing
On the eei ing and the floor,
E'en wi hin .he hear.'s dark corners,
Wi,h a gen..c g once .hey full.
And in ,he r e.tr and p e sant radiance,
As in the wires of go d it pays,
pees ,he soul !Led wi.h sadness,
Ligh.s the eye wi.h rt.diaut ray.
LeTekOnei mei.: arolindthe fireside,
Through he dreary win cr eve,
hey cum wi 110 U: is Sri dent,
TA.es of n her d ys .o weave,
Soap .ha..o lie hear. ore de rest,
Brea he upon he ha. ooed..ir,
Voice• g y in nor h are 11/.13g ed,
d ords" ai c s cee.est thug
How he aged lad ho we ry
Look hCC lie h Tray hedr.h,
1koho•e merry igh .he; si.or ed,
Lie hey a.. ed _ugh bid 'lair h.
Thnagh ,he g ow Iris mug been faded,
Ugh Cr ti an ,f yore a burns,
When .he spin . worn wi h wandering,
To ,ha. cherished vision ,urns.
Then vitii e filling snow-flakes rustle
On ,he dargened window-p..ne,
Le. mg , her round .he fireside,
Heed es of the nigh -wind's reign.
And oheu dle's co d win er commh,
d .he darline, mid ,he s.orm,
We'd again in memory's chamber
Mee. around die fireside warm.
From Pu n on's Nlon.hly for March
NOTES ON PROPER NAMES.
"IliNS,IL1113! COMO here, my poy
—I ba y inytilieer, knows you vot for
I calls my poy Brans ?"
"Nu, indeed, sir, I cannot think of
any peculiar fitness in it."
Well, inyillieer, it ish because that
his: name."
Here ended the question with our
Simple-minded Dutchman, here it ends
with most men, who never ask why
flames should he suliered to lot d tt
over things. But philosophy, which
always permitted to step in when
utility steps out, has a longer inquisi
tion in the case. To Hans it were
enough to know that the rough aspi
mte-na al-hi-s, is his name, and he
would hal dly be so wise as to let
sour krimt wi:it for him tp settle the
whoctlire having any name, or
that tame in which he was summoned
to dinner. But philosophy never dines,
and to her it imoorts much why he
was so edited; aid she might from so
shoat a text preach an endless disso
tatimi on philology, anatomy, the
progress of civilization, and the atts,
d the great science ut nomenclature.
But if she has her head, nobody else
could ever dine; so instead of going
into the wildet ness of wisdom opened
up by his name, Hans may go to his
father the 1) Dutchman, and we
will go to the limited consideration of
proper names.
To commence methodically, though
someways from the beginning: names
are of two kinds, proper and common;
yet nothing is now more common than
proper names are; and, indeed, noth
ing Mole proper than common names.
A man's own name is his proper name,
in spite of unfitness or incongruity.
Tu appropriate the name of another,
as at the bottom of a w. , te of hand, is,
however, not proper, though, alas!
too common. He is a forger who dues
that, whatever his trade may be. Yet
ahundred Smiths," black" or " white,"
thigl.t write John to their notes with
uut imputation of guilt, John Smith
being a common noun, and synony
mous with anonymous, if that is not a
In the "bract days of old," all men
Were anonymous, not, indeed, John
Stuith s , but really unelkistened Pagans..
It was no maneaning phrase, that of
fighting to win themselves a name,"
fir they v erily had none ; which had
this advantage, that no envious slan
,deter could rob them of one, good"
or ill. This was before academie, for
vetiting were adopted, or Cademus
bad taken- out letters patent for his
invention of letters. Billets,it is true,
bad been sent before, but they were
billets of wood, addressed father to
the head than the understanding. Cain
Is supposed to be the originator of
THE PEOPLE'S JOURNAL
this kind of epistlatory correspond
ence. Forging was, of course im
possible.• By a singular coincidence,
this was the first heard of—the days of
Tubal Cain, whose impudence in that
respect caused a particular mention of
his " ht ass ;" and the sad comequence
is not omitted, that he was "first w.ho
walked in irons"—very suggestive of
the fate of forgers to this day—thus
early, in its history, humanity is ECCII
limping with its two Cants!
You may suppose that Adam, or the
first man„ bore a proper name, though
a little stained with apple-juice.
But this is a misapprehension of the
customs or the time. It has become
- so well known as to be a proverbial
phrase, that every human, at his debut
in this world, is a "little red baby;"
it is a birth mark from his father
Adam, who was made of red clay
from the disintegrated red sand-stone
with which the eat th was underpinned.
Fur this reason he was called Adam,
that is, Redey, just as naughty boys
darkey, to people of a deeper
shade. This was enough to distin
guish him in that early age, when the
fimily was small, and Fame's genea
logical hanian had not grown to a per
fect swamp of oblivion, with its myriad
branches.turned trunks.
We are told that he gave names to
the animals, but properly speaking
they were not pt open names ; merely
for dLtinction he called his favorite
COWS " bug- horn," . "brindle," and
"line-back;" and mrthat long first day,
belbre Eve carne, it is not strange that
be called one graceful creature his
deer," and another his '• duck." The
till, g was highly proper, but the
n me.. were not ; and we repeat, you
c .snot 1 e too CeUrit etadolletl
ilig names with things. When people
began to muitiply—which Paboll says
is" a more tapid way of titling addi
tion"—it is obvious they must have a
more cohvenicut, not to say more
polite, way of distinguishing people
in the second person, than to tun
tugging at their coattails, and saying
" you ! you!" or the not less indeli
cate fashion of pointing to those in the
third person ; or in their absence, of
going through the laborious circumlo
cution of a circumstantial description.
Hence, at a very early period, men
began to lay hold of any remarkable
feature, even if it were 'the very nose
of a man, and with equal facility if lit
chanced to he enormously large, or
astonishingly small, a hatchet, or a
turn-up; thereby to Lang a name,
which should be his biography-, por
trait, caricature, or genealogy, con
densed, to the very marrow and gristle.
On a bald pate where a fly wonld trip
up, they would stick a cognomen; and
call the hardiest heti) names, to his
very face. So - Nimrod—which you
must not suppose to be a corruption of
rain-rod—caught his name by being
a great hunter ; and all the Cmphuses,
Stones, Pedros, Pierces, Paythers, and
Peters, are de rived from some hard
headed. hard-hearted old Arab, who
h piled up the rocks" in tl.e &oi l y
De-•ett. Charlemange was a great
Carle; Front-de-Bceuf an obstinate
bull-head; and Chat les-le-Chaune, Who
in spite of consecrating hereditary
tights, could have no hairs to his
Milne, was but a bald-headed Charley.
Among men's faces, as among their
opinions, were all varieties of shades,
and White, Black, Blown. Grey,
Dunn, and Grecn—•• to that complex
ion had it come at last,"—were all
fastened on the posterity their- first
possessors,.as indelibly as if they bad
all sat down on st; many ditlerent
paint-pots. Vet hereditai y nomencla
ture is comparatively model n. When
-men had nothing else to give their
children, they were too generous to
give them the paternal name ; it was
enough then, it the parent bequeathed
his vit es to his s ar, with( ut the legacy
of the had — twine they earned. "And
the sons, to do them justice, generally
did ample credit to the implied faith
in their ability to earn their own repu
tation in that direction. When all
the natural peculiarities were ex
hausted to name men by, and " still
they came,"—the accidents, the inci
dt nts, their exploits, and their blun
ders,
" the lay of the laud, and the
looks of the people,"—were all pressed
into the service ; and Billy Bowlegs
bowed and scraped to Mr. Packpenny,
and Mr. Stackpole leant his assistance
to his neighbor Coblniuse, and Mr.
Craven beqaeathed his name to a race
of heroes, and his nature to some
great uncle of Col. Bragg ; while Hill
stooped kindly to Le Valle, and
Underhill looked up respectfully to
Montaign ; Waters ran into Lakes ;
and La Fontaine had a draught li.o
Lion, Lamb, Fox, Wolf, and half of
Barnum-Noah's Menagerie.
When arts advanced, and the com
mon people became too numerous ibr
particular names, they took names in
classes from particular trades—so they
were called according to their calling.
Parsons and Priests met with Churches
DEVOTED TO TILE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY, AND THE DISSEAIINATION OF MORALITY, LITFT.ATIIRE, AND NEWS
COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA., A.P. UM 5, 1855.
and Parisbers, and Dyes bound to
COlns, while Graves yawned before
both ; Brewer sent out Beers, and
Fisher brought in Eels ; and, in sbol t ,
.everybody bad the name Pt . doing
something in the way of :,is trills...
How came thtle F.,i) many John
Smiths 7 philosopher who under
takes to acc6unt fot human names, and
overlook s that- great question; is but
poorly qualified to grapple with his
subject. So - large and diversified a
pottion of • the human family, Com
prising us -it does every degree of ex
cellence in character from sainthood
to zero, and from devil-hood , up to
zero, claims patticular notice in the
philosophy of proper names, and this
is the place to bestow . it. Why are
there. so many John Smiths ? We
undertake to answer the momentous
inquiry.
Beating, as well as beating down, is
a process in most trades. He that
smote with the hammer,•whether.a
carpenter or metal-worker, was called
a smith, one who smiteth,—drop the e
and yOu have the_ name with entire
ease. Hence, the family name of a
race that includes more members than
kindred, more namesakes of the "Meek
Disciple" John--than imitators of his
Meekness not to say that the smiters
are more pugnacious thanother fami
lies, but Only more of them.
An ancient king of Poland, once
victorious over an army of unbelievers,
had them all chi istened ; the super fur
officers first, and singly, then the sub
ol according to rank, iu class es,
then the soldiery, in solid regiments. .
The priest waving Porn a cedar bough
a shots er of holy water along the
ranks. shouted as the ea:re may be—
" Tenth Regiment of the Twelfth Bat
talion of Light Infantry—l, baptize
you Peter, in the name," c..-r-the
next "J(ilni," the third - " Andrew,"
and so on, thiough all the Apostles,
Holy Fathers, Unholy Father-Con
fessors, Mat tyi s, and Mai vel-mougers ;
till the whole army of the faithful hiid
lent their Lame- to grace the army of
the aliens, down to the baggage-boys
and camp-scullions. The regiment of
artisans, ail smiters before they were .
fighters, chanced to be christened for
the Apocalyptic Seer, and were seen
dispersed by the general order, " TO
the Eleventh . Regiment, Twelfth Bat
talion of *the Royal Infiintry, John
Smith, you are hereby disbanded, and
ordered to repair to your several
homes without .delay." This, in ad
dition to all. the natural and ordinary
methods of increase, will account for
the multiplicity of Johns in all the
great family of timitets.
All names were significant in the
primitive times, though doubtless
many. %yin - , lore them were insignifi
cant,_as indeed the names themselves
often signified. But now, alas I what
signifies a name ? A rose issupposed
to be capable of exerting the same
titillatory power to produce sensations
of pleasure under any otner cogno- -
men ; as Shakspew e has erroneously,_
but beautifully observed.
Men of old did 'not so belie the .
significance of their names as they
now do—for being cut to fit, the gar
ment of fame did fit, sometimes like
the shirt of Nessus on the hack of
Hercules. But handed down to pos
te] ity, they sit oddly on the dwarfed
or exaggerated figures of the pi e:ent.
Black 1. pm trips a white-livered milk
sop ; and White could play . the Moor
without cork ; Craven fights like a
Trojan ; Litt:e stalks by, six feet seven
lit his hoot ; Strong might creep with
his puny body through the swot d-hilt
of his ancestor;. Swift mopes behind
the snails ; and Good raises " the
antiquatiid Henry" with his rogueries.
Such contradictions and anamolies re
sult from the use of old fossils to build
new houses. Let us remember, how
ever, that there are more, people now
than formerly, and when all the grave- -
stones of antiquity will not furnish
labels enough for the demand, there
is a sthall chance for selection and
adaptation.
Among landholders, the stock of the
family tree derived its name from the
soil, and with its name took nearly
everything else from the soil, till the
serf's had littleleft but the name. Those
feudal family trees were " gallows"
trees, to - use a modernism ; and the
numerous dependants from their many
bianche's had the name of being sup
ported by the same. With them was
the name, but with the lordly tree the
game; wnich game some tree infect
suppOrted them, as the - fly-catcher
supports the fly it feeds on. In addi
tion to a limn traction of their own
earnings, and the privilege of fighting
the battles of their loids, the retainer
was allowed to take the good name of
the nobles, to the vast gratification of
the pride and vanity of those far
sighted gentlemen who had not an
ticipated the inevitable democracy of
nature, which' soon confounded mas
ters and servants in indistinguishable
confusion.
An aristocratic name .of any an _
thentk antiquity
argues this assuredly
tr.', its holder, -he is either descended
from My Lola Foodle or his man
Jack, and lucky he, if the latter, say
we. Surrounded_ by their retainers,
these great lords built villages for
them, and as a memorial legacy to
their country, enriched by their exem
plaryhomehohl,the common language
with two invaluable words;Knave - iiiid
Villain, which was, in another . sort,
giving their names . totheirretainers.
Heraldic devices became a frUitful
source of proper names ; so that the
crusades, if they did little towards
Christianizing the Paynim, did much
in christening the believers. The
man whose flither had killed a pecu
41arly tough Wog in the woods, was
privileged to deck his epaulets with
a memento ofth.2:- spoils—in short, to
wear a hog's head on his shoulders ;
which honor often descended where
there was an astonisning natural fit
ness. He could also put a pig's face
in his hand;:una, -and set it up for a
sign on hiS spear-pole ; and .
name
ofsport his haistling honors in the
of Wildboar, which time, has greatly
tamed -, down, and domesticated into
tt ilbour. Thus boar glorifieth bore,
and the bright wine of fame is put- up
like any . vulgar litpkir, by the hogs
head.
Gratitude and a certain remorseless admi
ration have been cruel disseminators of prop
er names. To perpetuate, their respect or
love, men, give their children the name; of
great or good men, so handing down, "too lit
erally, to posterity-. Geo. Washington Snabbs,
Seneca Sliggs, and Solomon Muddle, are
bomb e buu genuine witnesses to the immor
tality of genius: There is some discount .in
th s kind of glory; it renders a whi:e name
liable to dir y handling, and has reduced
CieSar and Pompey to their least common
denominator, as dogs and donkeys. Then, if
the unlucky bearer of a great name proves
himsetf a getiiir., poor bewiidered Fame, •
wi:h her trumpet cracked on some forte It
" Second Byron," and live and fortieth " Fa - )
Ater of his Country," which, by the way
doesn't speak well for said country's molter
—must blow Icer immortal jaws into cramps
trying to distinguish between the full sonorous
blast of " William Shakespeare!" and the
new worthy Wm. Tabs Shakespeare. Wil
liam Tibbs were safer on his own legs.
Before family names became hereditary, it
was a very common . derive among all nations
to prefix or affix syllables to the father's name,
and give it to the son, the addition usualy
signifying of or from or son. Thus_ Bar-Jo
n !It was the sun ofJeurTh ; Jackson, the son
of a Jack, and Jillson, the son of Jill, of that
firm. Whe.her Cinneber, that alias for the
thief-god, Mercury, is the son of sin, we
leave to the commentators. The add.tion of
the genitive 's proves that Adams is a descend
ant of Adam—a fact' important to those who
would enim an ancient, well-authenticated
genealogy. Mac has the satue significance,
and stands as a monument in the name of the
great road-maker, Macadam, to show his
derivation from the saints distinguished pro
, genitor. When remarkable men are related.
it is pleasant to know it;- hence the initity of
our researches. •
The We:ch multiply appellations by ups,
as Richard-ap-Richard, which, by rapid ennti
ctittion, becomes Richard Pri chard, the son
of Richard. In this way a IVetchman m.ty
carry a complete geneo:og cal list of his Lames=
tors from Adatn-ap-Cain-ap—the- Lord
knows who, down to the lust, prince of wails
aml wan s that 'appened to -precede him. If
Mr. Hazzard were a We:chtnan, his son.
might be 'ap-Hazzard, without intitna
tine any:hung fortuitous in his
The Irish, to represent the "son q," say 0'
-Hot indeed as an exc'amallon s f surpthe—
for inn - that prolific Is.and the birth of a F.Oll is
no such a rarity as to excite wonder. It is
ray a contraction of of, a worrsufficiently
short, one woMdahink, but put in such,fre
quent requisition it ha& to throw off its lum
bering consonant, that it may keep up with
the march otpopulation.
The Dutch carry along their tinnily honors
in a ran, wh ch mint serves not only for
Wags, but Wagons, and Wag'ners.
The Russians; in handing down porsonal
honors as an heir-(and-hlde-)'oom, to their
families, give their sons the itch, which for
eigners so sneeze at to this day. - Juroslors
son Vsevolod, was the first to introduce, the
custom, by calling himself Jaroslavitch, think
log anything better than his own name, which
a man cannot Icgin to pronounce without
sticking up his nose at it. To their grand
sons, in the saute euphonious tongue, they
said of; dins, Kutulynoseoff is s grandson of
Ku.-ruy-nose.
The Or:entals; with no .intension to nick
name, cAll their boys Ben, wltelt nr kes it
appear that Benlvadad must have been the
gun of 'A-Ditd, to say the !east. As Fame in
Atte East blows her trumpet bo.h ways- - .hat
is, from son to fa:her, as well as froth father
to .son—they h .ve to prefix. Alice to signify
the father of—; so that "Abou-Ben-Adhem,"
whose tr be has been resrectfully requested
to "increase," must have been the father of
the son of Adam, making him no other than
that ilbas.rious personage bnuse 1, whose
"name ied all the rest." . There needed no
esi ecial prompting to his tribe, from Leigh
Hunt, since it was to him that the that com
ra..nd to "increase," was . given, and which
has been obeyed with a cheerful S alacrity that
seems to be almost too good a beginning to
hold out, and pr. pares us to I xpect a falling
off on the latter commandments. Aud here,
Inytng descr.be'd a ciree and come back to
the beginning, we pr pose to rest.
From the Little Pilgrin?
A PASTITHER bTOBY. .
"Aunt Ellen, tell us a story.". l•
"A story What sort of a one V
"A panther story," says Willie:
. "Oh; yes, a panther story," says Ed-
gar and Eloise in a breath.
"A•PanfiT tory," echoed little Delta.
" W ell.l then, a panther story it mint
be. But now, you must all keep still
and listen. Wheu I was a little girl,
not larger than Ida, I had a dear aunt
Whom my sisters arid I used to tease
for stories.
"Once she told us 'about two young
ladies who went walking in the woods
and saw a panther. One of-them was
so frightened that she fainted away.
The other lady, of course, would not
go and leave her friend to he eaten;
so she staid.with her, and the ugly
boast would have eaten them both, if it
had not been for a hunter who came
along with a gun and shot the panther
just as he was about to kill the girls."
" - Wasn't she a silly girl to faint
said my sister. "l'd have- climbed a
tree!"
"But the panther could beat her
climbing trees," said aunty.
"I'd ba' run like ei•crything, and
then he'could nut get -me," said little
sister.
"But," said my aunt, "he could run
faster than site could; and perhaps the
wisest thing she could do . was to faint,
so the panther could eat her when she
did not know any thing about it."
"Lwould have put my arms around
his neck, and squeezed him to•death!"
said I, vet) , confidently; "I wouldn't
have been a hit afraid."- •
"Some time after that, my mother,
sent me to the brook to wash some let
tuce. The path led through some
woods, and there were trees around
the spring. When I got within sight
of it, I-saw perched on the end of a
log that jutted out over the dipping.
hole 'such a frightful animal! One
glance convinced me it was a panther!
Didn't I drop the pan of lettuce, and
run home! I don't think I ever run
so fast befOre. As soon as I could get
breath enough to speak, I told my moth
cr what a fearful monster I had seen
that it had such large fiery eyes,. and
was twice as large as Uncle John's
dog, and I was sure it was a panther."
"Why,' child," said mother, "Uncle
John's dog is large enough to make
two panthers."
"Aunty looked up very smilingly
and whispered . - to- me; 'Let's go and
fetch it to the house; for, of course,
our brave little girl "put her arms
around its neck and. spec-zed it to
death.'
"How foolish I telt! My blood
mounted to my face in a moment, and
without saying a word I followed fath
er and mother to the spring. And, on
the same projecting log sat a fat rac
coon watching the trout in the brook,
and' thinking, no doubt, what a nice
dinner they would make him. But
',poor cooney did not live to eat his
dinner. Father killed him with a club,
and took him home, and the next day
he made a breakfast fin• us.
"Atter that, - for a long time, if ever
was lacy, and hesitated about start
ing, when, mother sent me for water,
she would ask me if I was afraid of
meeting another raccoon."
"Tell it again! tell it again!" said a:
number of little voices..
"Uli, not now; butly-and-by, if you
like my stoties, I will tell you another."
Tun old manwas toiling through the
burden and heat of the day, in culti
vating his! field with his' own hands,
and depositing the promising seeds in
to the fluitful lap of yielding earth.
Suddenly there stood out • before him,
under the shade of a huge linden tree.
a vision. The old man was struck with
great amazement.
"I am §olomon," spoke the phant
tom, in a ifriendly voice. "What are
you doing here, old man ?"
"If yot are • Solomon," replied the
venerable laborer, "how can you ask
this? In my youth you sent me to the
ant; I saw its occupation - , and learned
from that insect to be industrious, and
to gather. What I then learned I have
followed7out to this hour."
"Yon have only learned half your
lesson,"resumed the phantom. "Go
again to the ant, and learn from that iii
sect to rest in'the winter of your life,-
and enjoy what you 'have gathered up."
—Germ4n Allegory..
" If fire and a half yards make a perch, how
many w,ll make a cat-fish 7"
Ea" The fel.ow who 'perpetrated the above
was last seen lishing - tbree.A in, the Aththiic,
and is supposed to belong to the . —fish aris
tocracy. i
From Woltort's Roost,
THE BIRDS OP SPRING.
I=
• My quiet residence in the country,
aloof from 'lesbian, politics, and the
money market, leaves me rather at a
loss for occupation, and drives mei
occasionally to the study of nature,
and other low pursuits. Having few
neighbors, also, on whom to exercise .
my habits otobservation, I am fain
to amuse myself with prying into the
domestic, concerns and peculiarities
of the animals around me; and du
ring the present season have derived_
considerable entertainment from cer
tain sociable little birds, almost the
only vbiitors we have ihad during this
early part of the year.
Those. who have passed the winter
in the country are sensible of the de- .
lightful influences that accompany the
earliest indications of spring• ' and of
these none are , more delightful than
the first notes of the birds. There is _
.one modest, little, sad-colored bird,
much resembling a wren, which came
about-the house juss q on the skirts of
winter, when not Iblade of grass was
to be seeu, and when a few prema
turely
warm days had given a flatter
ing foretaste of soft weather. Ho
sang early in the dawning, long': be- -
fiu•e sunrise, and late in the evetiing..
just belore the closing in of night, his
main and his vesper hymns. It is
true he sang occasionally throughout
the day; but at these hours his song
was more remarked. He sat on a
leafless tree;just before the .window,
and warbled tiath his notes, few and
simple, but singularly - sweet, with
something of a plaintive tone, that
heightened their effect._
The first morning that he was heard
was a joyful one among the young
fidks of my household. The long,
death-like -sleep of winter was at an
end; nature was once more awaken- _
cog; they now promised themselves
the immediate appearance of buds
and blossoms. 1 was reminded of the
tempest l tossed crew of Columbus,
when, after their long, dubious voy
age, the field-birds came singing round
the ship, though still far at sea; re
juicing them with the belief of the
immediate proxiMity of land. A sharp
return of winter althost silenced my
little songster, and dashed the hilarity
of the household; yet he poured forth
now and then a few- plaintive notes:
between the frosty pipings - of the -
breeze, like gleams of sunshine be
tween wintry clouds.
I have consulted my book of orni
thology in vain, to find out the name
of this kindly little bird, who certainly .
deserves honor and favor far beyond -
his Modest pretensions. He comes
like the lowly violet, the most unpre
tending, but welcomest of flowers,
breathing the sweet fragrance of the
earlY year.
1 Another of our feathered visitors,
who; follow, close upon the steps of
' winter, is the Pe-wit, -or Pe-wee, or .
i l Plici 4 !be-bird; for he is called by each
of tfiese names, from- a fancied reseal s
blance to- the sound of his monotonous
note. He is a sociable- . little being,
1 ancPseeks the habitation of man. A
pair! of them have built beneath my
porch, and have reared several broods
there -for two years past, their nest
' being never disturbed. They arrive
early in the spring, just when the cro•
eusand the snow-drop begin to peep \
,forth. Their first chirp spreads glad
nesi, through the house "The Plicebe
I bird has come!" is heard on all sides;
they are welcomed back like mem
bers of the family; and speculations
are made upon where they have been;
and what countries they have seen,
during their long absence. Their ar
rival is the more cheering, as,it is
prOnounced by - old, weatherwise peo
pl' of the country, the sure sign that
Ithe severe frosts are at an end, and
i •
1 thatthe gardener may resume his
1 labors with confidence.
About this time, too, arrives the
blue-bird, so poetically yet truly de
scribed by Wilson. His appearance
gladdens the whole landscape. • You
bear his soft warble in every field.
He socially approaches your habita - -
thin, and takes up his residence in .
your vicinity.
Tile happiest bird of our spring.
however, and one that rivals the
European lark in my estimation; is
the Boblinculn or Bobolink, as he is
commonly called. He arrives in that
choice portion of the year which, in
this latitude, answers to the descrip
tion of the month of-May, as given by
the poets. With us, it begins about
the middle of May, and lasts until
nearly the middle of June. Earlier
than this, winter is apt to return on
its traces, and to blight the opening
beautits of the year; and later than
this begin the parching, and panting.
• and dissolving heats of summer. But
in this genial interval, nature is in all
her freshness' and • fragrance ; "the,
NO. 46.