VIRGINIA BIRD HOMES 119 



to gaze upon fluttering multitudes out of my bedroom 

 window. But I was soon undeceived, and I found myself 

 next morning trudging up the beach northward, weighted 

 down with a backload of impedimenta, under the ardor of 

 the late June sunshine. For a mile the way was past the 

 pine-tract, which contained many great Osprey's nests, con- 

 spicuous as hay-mows in the tree-tops. Then came the sandy 

 beach, unrelieved by any background save that of the low, 

 interminable salt marsh. A tramp of miles upon the sand 

 may be wearisome and monotonous, or not, according to 

 circumstances. When breezes blow free and the waves are 

 flowing, when shore-birds pipe their clear, mellow calls, when 

 sea-birds flit gracefully by and plunge into the brine, one 

 forgets his burdens and feels as free as they. 



Expecting such conditions, I plodded along, and was re- 

 warded. After about three miles I began to hear the sounds 



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NEST AND EGGS OF THE BLACK SKIMMER 



