18 WAKE-ROBIN 



his parts in this manner. You are to look for him, 

 not in tall trees or deep forests, but in low, dense 

 shrubbery about wet places, where there are plenty 

 of gnats and mosquitoes. 



The winter wren is another marvelous songster, 

 in speaking of whom it is difficult to avoid super- 

 latives. He is not so conscious of his powers and 

 so ambitious of effect as the white-eyed flycatcher, 

 yet you will not be less astonished and delighted on 

 hearing him. He possesses the fluency and copious- 

 ness for which the wrens are noted, and besides 

 these qualities, and what is rarely found conjoined 

 with them, a wild, sweet, rhythmical cadence that 

 holds you entranced. I shall not soon forget that 

 perfect June day, when, loitering in a low, ancient 

 hemlock wood, in whose cathedral aisles the cool- 

 ness and freshness seems perennial, the silence was 

 suddenly broken by a strain so rapid and gushing, 

 and touched with such a wild, sylvan plaintiveness, 

 that I listened in amazement. And so shy and coy 

 was the little minstrel, that I came twice to the 

 woods before I was sure to whom I was listening. 

 In summer he is one of those birds of the deep 

 northern forests, that, like the speckled Canada 

 warbler and the hermit thrush, only the privileged 

 ones hear. 



The distribution of plants in a given locality is 

 not more marked and defined than that of the birds. 

 Show a botanist a landscape, and he will tell you 

 where to look for the lady's-slipper, the columbine, or 

 the harebell. On the same principles the ornitholo- 



