Pussy Willow by the brook
You will find if you but look.
Tir-rell-loo! Tir-rell-loo.
I'm the little bird of blue!"
And as the little rabbit looked over the Sunny Meadow it seemed as if under the warm rays of Mr. Merry Sun that the brown grass turned a tender green and the trees began to murmur in the wind the half forgotten song of summer.
"Hurray, Hurrah!" cried the little rabbit, and he hopped away to the Old Duck Pond to see if Granddaddy Bullfrog had come out of his hiding place way down in the muddy bottom. But, No Sireemam. Old Granddaddy Bullfrog wasn't going to catch his death of cold by coming out too soon, neither was Teddy Turtle. They knew better, for the ice was still floating in great pieces on the surface of the water and the old mill wheel hadn't yet begun to turn around.
SPRING IS HERE
When you first hear welcome news,
You can hardly keep your shoes
From running off with both your feet
And telling every one you meet.
This is just the way little Jack Rabbit felt on seeing Blue Bird, the sweet-voiced Messenger of Spring. To know that Spring had come, after the long hard Winter, made the little rabbit almost as happy as if it were Xmas morning.
"There comes Professor Jim Crow," exclaimed the little rabbit, looking out from the Old Bramble Patch, and then over the Sunny Meadow fluttered Redwing and Song Sparrow.
"All the birds will soon be here," laughed the little bunny, hopping out to the Sunny Meadow to look about him. Pretty soon he heard the merry whistle of Mr. Meadow Lark.