down the narrow lanes, the under branches of the roadside elms are seen sprinkled with fresh green, the hawthorns and hedgebanks flushed with verdure. Once more Nature awakens from her winter sleep, and clothes the world with beauty. April, though fickle, is full of interest and treasured memories. "Oh! to be in England, Now that April's there; And whoever wakes in England That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough On every side new creations strew our pathway, which may well excite our interest by their elegance, beauty, or singularity; the feathered race appear jubilant at the return of the fair season, and surprise us by their wonderful instinct; and myriad forms of insect life rise as it were from the dead to display their marvellous colours and form. Thus April is full of instruction. The Adder's Tongue, one of our most singularly formed plants, is already thrusting its thick fleshy leaf and curious spike up through damp meadows, its growth somewhat resembling that of the arum. It is of the fern tribe, but not very plentifully distributed; named from the resemblance the spike bears to a snake's tongue. The leaf is large, oval or egg-shaped, and about as long as the spike. The growth of the plant is wholly distinct from that of ferns generally; the fronds of the latter, when young, curl inward, like a crozier, gradually unrolling; the Adder's Tongue is wrapped in a leaf. The plant is still used in country places for internal or external wounds; formerly it was deemed an unfailing remedy for cuts and wounds, and especially valuable for the cure of the bite of the snake. The form of a plant, it was contended by the old herbalists, displayed its uses, bearing upon leaf, root, flower, or seed, some sign which proclaimed its virtue to man-this was called its signature; hence the many absurd notions of old as to the efficacy of simples. APRIL 6TH. THE ALMOND TREE.-(Amygdalus communis.) ""Tis a fair tree, the Almond Tree; there Spring THE tree at this season is peculiarly ornamented-its branches profusely clothed with bright blush rose-coloured blossom. It is a curious fact that if a sharp spring frost sets in while the tree is in bloom, the colour of the flower is deepened almost to bright red, and so continues for some days. The blossoms unfold before the leaves, and are usually in pairs set thickly around the twigs. The fruit is covered with a velvety skin, a thin fleshy tissue encasing the thick rough shell containing the Almond. The fruit is of the peach kind. Although our summers are rarely long or warm enough to ripen the fruit, the Almond Tree has long been a favourite, and, having been cultivated in England for at least 300 years, may be said now to have become naturalised. It is a native of France, Italy, and the Levant. The tree is very plentiful in the hedges about Tripoli, presenting at the flowering season vast masses of the richest blossom. With us the tree is usually interspersed with evergreens, and in spring, as "The sun-lit Almond blossom shakes," the whole shrubbery appears full of flowers. The kind bearing large flowers is known as the sweet Almond -produced in warm climates in enormous quantities, and used as food, but considered as difficult of digestion. The bitter Almond is known by its smaller blossom. The fruit of the latter is said to be injurious to man and poisonous to many animals, as wolves, dogs, cats, &c. The skin of the kernel contains a considerable amount of prussic acid. K Almonds appear to have been used at banquets in olden times to prevent the intoxicating effects of wine. Their efficacy in this respect may be doubted. The almond yields a considerable quantity of oil. APRIL 7TH. THE WILD SWEET WALLFLOWER.-(Cheiranthus cheiri.) THIS flower is usually viewed with favour and affection, when decking, as it so frequently does, the stately ruins of monastery, abbey, or castle, with its beauty, and shedding its sweet, fragrant breath over the remains of those noble structures of old, despoiled by man and worn by time. Moir addresses it as "Flower of the solitary place! And fillest up the envious rent Time's canker tooth hath made." It delights as well to take up its habitation in the crevices of old rocks, draping their steep declivities, like those of St. Vincent, at Clifton, with its golden bloom. In favourable situations its shrubby stem frequently rises two feet in height, throwing out numerous circular branches, all decked with rich yellow or darker coloured petals; its odour renders it a cherished garden flower, for none of its gay companions emit a richer fragrance in early spring. The form of the flower resembles the arms of a Maltese cross, the four petals being exactly opposite each other, whence the name crucifera, given to a most extensive assemblage of plants. Herrick, one of the best of our old lyric poets, relates the legend attached to the flower and the origin of its name in verse; and as it may serve as a warning to young ladies not to slide down walls to their lovers, we venture to transcribe it 66 'Why this flower is now called so, List, sweet maids, and you shall know. 'Tempting down to slide withal; And her loving luckless speed, Now the flower of the wall!'"-[1647.] APRIL 8TH. THE JAY.-(Garrulus glandarius.) "Proud of cerulean stains, From Heaven's unsullied arch purloined, WHEN the woods are again in full leaf you may hear the harsh notes of the Jay, but you will rarely catch the bright gleam of the blue wings. It is a very shy bird, rapidly hiding away, when disturbed, in its native haunts; at present, if you trace the bird by its disagreeable call, you may have a brief view of its rich-barred wings, and may notice its apparently powerless, fluttering flight, but no adequate notion can be gained of the beauty of its plumage, the rich, peculiar, silky appearance of the feathers, or the brilliant markings of clear blue, shading into every conceivable tint of purple, gray, &c., blending, indeed, one into the other, like the colours of the rainbow. The Jay is larger than the blackbird, about the size of the daw, somewhat heavily made, but of quick and lively habits; it rarely leaves the woods, usually evincing great timidity, except when the nest is full of young-then it ventures forth into the gardens, exhibiting a great partiality for cherries, &c., but nothing apparently comes amiss-insects, worms, the eggs of birds, acorns, beech nuts, &c. It is said to have a penchant for the eggs and young of game birds; hence it is not uncommon to find the remains of the Jay nailed to some tree in the woods with other "varmint." No keeper will spare it. Unmusical as the notes of the Jay may be a chattering kind of scream-yet it is one of those peculiar voices of the wood we delight to listen to, especially when those notes mingle with the songs of the thrush, blackbird, woodlark, &c. True Thomas was evidently delighted with the quaint concert. He says, "I heard the Jay and the throstell, That the wode about me range." The Jay occasionally imitates peculiar sounds. In confinement it has been taught to utter words. Rechstein says, “I have often, during my youth, seen this beautiful species of bird among the peasants of Thuringia confined in cages and taught to speak." It was formerly supposed to be the harbinger, under certain circumstances, of ill luck. A belief in omens seems to have been entertained by the whole human family, from the most cultivated to the most benighted; nor has this superstition even yet completely died out. Traces of those trivial occurrences, which were wont of old to fill the minds of whole families with dread and alarm, occasionally creep out. the Jay crossing the villager's path, was held to be an ill omen which could only be averted by turning back. Uythers, a poet of 1613, enumerates this among other foolish superstitiors : "If a babbling fowl we call a Jay, A squirrel, or a hare, but cross their way, Thus |