37 MARCH. Winter, still ling ring on the verge of Spring, THE principal operations of nature du ring this month seem to be to dry up the superabundant moisture of February, thereby preventing the roots and seeds from rotting in the wet earth, and gradually to bring on the swelling buds; though, at the same time, severe chilling blasts and the variableness in the weather prevent them from a full disclosure of their tender contents. This effect is beautifully touched upon in a simile of Shakespeare's: "And, like the tyrannous breathings of the north, Checks all our buds from blowing." C This seeming tyranny, however, is to be regarded as productive of very important advantages; and those years generally prove most fruitful, in which the pleasing appearances of spring are the latest; for the more advanced the season, the less probability is there of blights and insects, which are the most formidable of all enemies to springing vegetables. The sun has now acquired so much power, that on a clear day we often feel all the genial influence of spring, though the naked shrubs and trees give the prospect the comfortless appearance of winter. But soft pleasant weather in March is not often of long duration. As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd, Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets THOMSON. As soon as a few dry days have made the land fit for working, the farmer goes to the plough; and if the fair weather continues, proceeds to sow barley and oats; though this business is seldom finished till the next month. The importance of a dry season for getting the seed early and favourably into the ground, is expressed in the old proverb, A bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom. The mellow tote of the throstle, which sits perched on the naked bough of some lofty tree, is heard from the beginning of the month, and at the same time the ringdove coos in the woods; pheasants crow; hens sit; ducks and geese lay; and the rookery is now all in motion with the pleasing labour of building and repairing nests. It is highly amusing to observe the tricks and artifices of this thievish tribe, in defending or plundering the materials of their new habitations. A society with such a licence of theft, one would imagine could not possibly subsist; and that they are sometimes obliged to employ the power of the public to control the private dispositions of individuals, is shewn in the following story. There was once, in a rookery, a pair of birds, who, in the building time, instead of going out in search of materials, kept at home, and, watching the opportunity, plundered every unguarded nest; thus building their own habitation by contributions levied upon the industry of their neighbours. This had continued some time, and the robbers had hitherto escaped with impunity their nest was just finished, when the rest of the society, by common consent, made an attack on the depredators, beat them soundly, demolished their nest, and expelled them from the rookery. These birds are accused by the farmer of doing much injury, by plucking up the young corn, and other springing vegetables; though of late it seems to have become a general opinion that this mischief is fully repaid by their diligence in picking up the grubs of various insects, which, if allowed to grow to maturity, would occasion much greater damage. For this purpose, they are seen frequently following the plough, and darkening with their numbers the newly turned up land; in which occupation, near the sea-coast, they are frequently joined by multitudes of gulls; and as these birds, at other times, confine themselves almost wholly to the shore, it would probably be worth the farmer's while, where he has an opportunity, to encourage them, in preference to the former. Some birds that took refuge in our temperate climate from the rigour of the northern winters, now begin to leave us, and return to the countries where they |