Birds and all Nature, Vol. VII, No. 4, April 1900

And never venture an upward peep,
Till they hear from me,
Chickadee-dee!

"I tell Jack Frost when 'tis time to go
And carry away the ice and snow;
And then I hint to the jolly old sun,
'A little spring work, sir, should be done.'
And he smiles around
On the frozen ground,
And I keep up my cheery, cheery sound,
Till echo declares in glee, in glee,
'Tis he! 'tis he!
The chickadee-dee!"

"And then I waken the birds of spring —
'Ho, ho! 'tis time to be on the wing.'
They trill and twitter and soar aloft,
And I send the winds to whisper soft,
Down by the little flower-beds,
Saying, 'Come show your pretty heads!
The spring is coming, you see, you see!'
For so sings he,
The chickadee-dee!"

The sun he smiled; and the early flowers
Bloomed to brighten the blithesome hours,
And song-birds gathered in bush and tree;
But the wind he laughed right merrily,
As the saucy mite of a snowbird he
Chirped away, "Do you see, see, see?
I did it all!
Chickadee-dee!"

REFLECTIONS

CHARLES C. MARBLE

Vice often epitomizes ancestry.

The wisest are not so wise as silence.

Experience is the grave of enthusiasm.

Experience is the enemy of dogmatism.

Our faith is often nothing more than our hope.

Should we despise anything that God has made?

In bestowing benefits we imperil friendship.

Innocence and guilt are alike suffused with blushes.

If vice did not exist wisdom could not predicate itself.

Disappointment leaves a scar which hope cannot remove.

Success is an excellent proof of the wisdom which achieved it.

The vices of some men are more endurable than the virtues of others.

Beauty is a reproach without virtue, while virtue is itself the highest beauty.

The sun at noon gives no more light than at morn, but its glow has more warmth and power.

Without the accessories life were of little worth, and hope gives it its permanence and serenity.

Marriage should be in harmony with nature, in which what is seemingly discordant but illuminates and purifies it.

Our conduct toward one another should be based upon a conception of the infinite mischances of life and the exquisite poignancy of regret.

Misfortune seeks consolation in communicating itself. But when it no longer needs sympathy it is silent, and ashamed of its former volubility.

We can overcome even our prejudices where some interest is subserved by it. So much stronger is self-interest than color, social status, or education.

The poet should know, better than another, his limitations. Parnassus is always higher than our dreams, and his summit more radiant than the vision of any mortal.

The lily of the valley, which hides its chaste head in dewy leaflets, is a thousand times less modest than the maiden whose conscious blush reveals the innocence of reason.

If we were to judge all men by what they seem to have achieved, we would be harsh and unjust. We cannot always see the scar left by a heroic deed, and modesty conceals it.

Complete benevolence implies simplicity of living. The Christian cannot have if he knows that others have not. Thoreau was perhaps the wisest man of his time; he practiced what he preached; and there are few examples of simplicity to compare with his.

Nothing, perhaps, is more humiliating than to observe the precocious development of the negative virtues, especially prudence. There is a subtle suspiciousness in early prudence which is at war with all generous impulses. Think of the pinched heart of a little miser.

There is a selfishness which deals generously with its own: my wife, my child shall be arrayed in the richest, shall feed upon the daintiest; my servant, my handmaid they are naught to me. Nature hath made nothing better than my desert; she hath made nothing poor enough for thee and thine.

In an old man conceit may be so comprehensive as to include the race. Has he been reasonably successful with the fair sex, all are the subjects of his whim or desire; and he will sententiously and confidently repel any claim of virtue or purity. So blind is he to the centuries made splendid by her virtue and self-sacrifice, and so little is his judgment affected by objects unconnected with self.

FOXGLOVE

(Digitalis purpurea L.)

DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER,

Northwestern University School of Pharmacy

Pan through the pastures often times hath runne
To plucke the speckled fox-gloves from their stems.