THE RKTURN OF THE BIRDS. 3b 



Jiway or rises to a branch with an angry note, and 

 flirts his wings in ill-bred suspicion. The mavis, or 

 red-thrush, sneaks and skulks like a culprit, hiding in 

 the densest alders ; the cat-bird is a coquette and a 

 flirt, as well as a sort of female Paul Pry ; and the 

 chewink shows his inhospitality by espying your 

 movements like a Japanese. The wood-thrush haa 

 none of these under-bred traits. He regards me 

 unsuspiciously, or avoids me with a noble reserve, — 

 dT, if I am quiet and incurious, graciously hops to- 

 ward me, as if to pay his respects, or to make my ac- 

 quaintance. I have passed under his nest within a 

 few feet of his mate and brood, when he sat near by 

 on a branch eying me sharply, but without opening 

 his beak ; but the moment I raised my hand toward 

 his defenseless household his anger and indignation 

 were beautiful to behold. 



What a noble pride he has ! Late one October, 

 after his mates and companions had long since gone 

 south, I noticed one for several successive days in the 

 dense part of this next-door wood, flitting noiselessly 

 about, very grave and silent, as if doing penance fo 

 mme violation of the code of honor. By many gen 

 tie, indirect approaches, I perceived that part of his 

 tail-feathers were undeveloped. The sylvan prince 

 could not think of returning to court in this plight, 

 and so, amid the falling leaves and cold rains of 

 nutumn, was patiently biding his time. 



The soft, mellow flute (?f the veery fills a place in 

 the chorus of the woods that the song of the vesper 



