78 IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 



even though he was not yet, as he said, keeping 

 a hotel. 



Possibly I made too much of a small matter ; 

 but it pleased me to feel that this visit of mine 

 was to be of a peculiarly intimate character, — 

 almost, indeed, as if Mount Washington him- 

 self had bidden me to private audience. 



Compelled to wait three or four hours in 

 North Conway, I improved the opportunity to 

 stroll once more down into the lovely Saco 

 meadows, whose " green felicity " was just now 

 at its height. Here, perched upon a fence-rail, 

 in the shadow of an elm, I gazed at the snow- 

 crowned Mount Washington range, while the 

 bobolinks and savanna sparrows made music on 

 every side. The song of the bobolinks dropped 

 from above, and the microphonic tune of the 

 sparrows came up from the grass, — sky and 

 earth keeping holiday together. Almost I 

 could have believed myself in Eden. But, 

 alas, even the birds themselves were long since 

 shut out of that garden of innocence, and as I 

 started back toward the village a crow went 

 hurrying past me, with a kingbird in hot pur- 

 suit. The latter was more fortunate than us- 

 ual, or more plucky ; actually alighting on the 

 crow's back and riding for some distance. I 

 could not distinguish his motions, — he was too 

 far away for that, — but I wished him joy of 



