SCRAPS OF NATURAL HISTORY.

Press, Volume LXVIII, Issue 14343, 1 May 1912, Page 2

SCRAPS OF NATURAL HISTORY.

MAY COLOUR.

(Bt Caxterbuiit.)

(SPECIALLY WBITTEN" FOR "TEE mESS."y

XX. A wet unwilling summer has given J \pr:l tints to May; tho poplars nro still straight bars of yellow in tho landscape; more stubblefields than usual remain unploughed, and sumach, or Virginian creeper, are yet rorgeous in red and bronze. Scattered in uncared-for spots, the bins and haws are beautiful among tho waste, but theso are noticed without admiration by the owner of the land, even if he states feelingly that he must have up those qualified briars. Everywhere the orchards are golden in the weaker sunshine and the "walnut juice," which certainly is an April tint, sticks ners'ste'ntly to our hands. This year the, blackberries .were few and far between; not tho bushes themselves, worse luck, but tho ripened fruit, and in the places "where one gathered buckets full in previous autumns, tho berries hang in green clusters, all iva'ting to be spoiled by frcst. The whito button-mushrooms long ago to have dotted the meadows here or there; and afterwards have ended their mission by decorating the brown fried slices from the April pig, but except an occa c r'onal straggler, not any i have appeared. All this has been put down to tho account of "the cold wet summer," so, I suppose, must bo "that stag." A man came to mo and said, "I sec by the ( papers that a 'ton-rointer' was shot, whose 'horns were only just out of tho helmet.' What does that mean?" Then I ventured a f*uess. "Of course it must mean that 'velvet' has gone rieht out of all fashion, and the .-rood old custom of 'shning armour' is coming in onco more." XXI. ■ "Straight" willows lose their leaves much sooner than do their "weeping" relations, who appear to cling sorrowfully to a daily diminished covering, all through the frosts of May and June. Each year it has been remarked that the leaves remain longer on the branches, and in course of timo it may happen that tho new leaves will meroly displaco the old. Then presumably our willows may stop "weeping," for they will have become acclimatised and evergreen. Wait a moment, here is another fancy. Ail along the willow-sided road, runs a single telephone wire, and by ono of tho posts, is a small nice boy on a fat whito pony, presently they canter on to tho next, and hurriedly tho pony snatches a mouthful of grass, which he chews tranquilly with his head close to the pole. "He always w.'ll stop" says tho small boy solemnly, "he listens to tho messages going along tho wire." When the willows turn yellow along the oozy creek at the back of the farmyard, the blue-birds—pukeko—begin to como in from their summer scatter among tho swamps. From now onwards during the winter and until September, theso particular birds will stay in or about tho farmyard, feeding beside the poultry and parading on the grassy slope leading to the creek. They clean up tho manners after the horses have been fed. or stroll through tho garden as though they owned tho land. Not unusually, between thirty" and forty can bo counted at a given time, and many more exist on tho -neighbouring fnrms, where once they had become extinct. All theso are supposed to be the descendents of a single pair, which in search of a last refuge came close to tho farm, and were strictly protected. Tlireo. of the first brood were slain, by some strangers in unfortumtte possession of a gun ; but sporting "rights aro ! quickly becoming understood, and the j evident fact of so many blue-birds, distinctly is an encouragement to those who are interested in the preservation of native game.