1899 Sunday, Mar. 12. Traditiol al Saturday rain turned to fog at night. It was yet foggy in the morning. I remarked about 6:30 that if it were clear there would be bluebirds. At 8:30 I heard a suspicious sound, and soon, my listening, carried the characteristic note, high up and far away, but coming nearer. Soon I saw them, a half-dozen high up, 100 yards, at least, pulling for the north with their mes- sage of Spring. I think the first arrivals are northern birds that follow the edge of winter as it recedes, while natives arrive later. I never before saw them first on a foggy morning. About noon I heard