Northern Wisconsin Advertiser

Kin Hubbard Essays
Spring an' Her Harbingers

Ole windy March, first month o' spring, flat dwellers grow restless an' janitors sing.

--Miss Fawn Lippincott.

There's three kinds o' spring--forward, backward an' th' plain almanack variety, which arrives on th' twenty first day o' March, an' remains over.

Ther's many harbingers o' spring which are regarded as bein' absolutely trustworthy signs that th' season which we long for is "comin' soon." Wild geese flyin' north, marble playin', blue-eyed violets peepin' out o' th' slush, th' robin, th' shaggy umbreller mender with th' workhouse palor, th' candidate fer sheriff with his fresh hair cut, an' th' display o' onion sets, winter elbows an' garden tools--after th' ambitious office seeker gits his neck shaved and his cards printed.

But t' return t' th' first robin. Nature, in spite o' her celebrated reputation fer lookin' out fer ever-buddy, seems t' have given th' robin th' worst of it. Unequipped fer anything cold er than 30 above he's more frequently th' forecaster of a blizzard than th' dandelion. Unaggressive an' meek he'd sooner starve than question th' priority o' th' chesty English sparrow. Th' only thing a robin 'll attack in or out o' its lair is th' blind, helpless, squirmin' angle worm. Yit nature sends him north a full four weeks be fore th' angle worm is available. Ut terly lackin' in th' instinct t' keep away from his natural enemies he invariably selects a buildin' site within easy reach o' th' family cat, or in th' roof gutter, where he an' his family fall an easy prey t' th' April freshet.

But th' amount o' publicity th' first robin gits is enough t' make a forin ac trus close her American tour. He's th' only bird that gits his name on th' editorial page. Long before he gits fairly balanced on th' bare twigs of an apple tree his arrival is heralded broadcast by th' nearest newspaper an' discussed in every home. "Long Before He Gets Fairly Balanced on th' Bare Twig of an Apple Tree His Arrival Is Heralded Broadcast by th' Nearest Newspaper an' Dis cussed in Every Home."

How many times have we drawn th' curtain in th' mornin' an' looked out upon a bleak, snowy March landscape an' beheld th' first robin with a sad, away look in his eye, an' wonderin' at kind of a meteorological disturb ance nature wuz goin' t' hand him.

Ole hat Napoleon, standin' on th' barren, slaty bluffs o' St. Helena, lookin' gloomily out o'er a vast expanse o' speckless sea, didn't have anything on th' first robin.

all are looked upon as bein' unmistak able eviderces that winter is beatin' i hasty retreat. While we're liable t' burn more coal after th' airival o' th' first robin than we've burnod since he took his depart ure, he's still th' most highlv regarded forecaster o' th' vernal season in th' business.

When a farmer sees th' first robin he begins t' wonder how many circus passes he'll be able t' pull down fer allowin' his barn t' be plastered wlth flarin' posters, while his sons stand near th' corn-crib sullen an' morose while they contemplate th' spring plowin'.

Th' political candidate has been fooled so often by th' first robin that he withholds his activities till th' um breller mender shows up an' th' frost is out o' th' courthouse steps an' it's balmy enough t' lean agin' th' pust office. We rarely have any sleighin'