During the last week in the month, when the dark maroon flowers of the elm and the crimson blossom of the red maples are giving a ruddy glow to the woods with the catkins of the cotton-woods, the aspens and the red birches adding to the color harmony, we shall look for the fuzzy scape of the hepatica, bringing up through the leaf carpet of the woods its single blue, white or pinkish flower, closely wrapped in warm gray furs.  At the same time, perhaps a day or two earlier, the white oblong petals of the dwarf trillium, or wake-robin, will gleam in the rich woods.  And some sunny day in the same period we shall see a gleam of gold in a sheltered nook, the first flower of the dandelion.  A few days later and the light purple pasque-flower will unfold and gem the flush of new life on the northern prairies.  Even should the last week of the month be unseasonably cold we shall not have long to wait.  Yet

”——­a little while
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and
growth; a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills, as from low burial graves,
Thine eyes, ears,—­all thy best attributes,—­all that takes
cognizance of natural beauty,
Shall wake and fill.  Thou shalt perceive the simple shows,
the delicate miracles of earth
Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early scents and flowers;
With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their songs—­the
flitting bluebird;
For such scenes the annual play brings on."