THE GARDENS OF THE SEA 49 



every side, broad cymes of white elder 

 flowers reflect the light, and rough- 

 fronded brakes line the path. 



The upland fields of timothy that 

 border on the lane are not yet mown, 

 and field sparrows warble and swing 

 on the stout grasses. Yonder in that 

 briery maze a yellow-breasted chat is 

 hiding, who calls with a ventriloquist's 

 whistle, until a dozen birds seem 

 answering. The madcap bobolinks 

 are now anxious to disperse their 

 broods before the mowers lay bare 

 their shabby nests; and half bewitched, 

 they sing, and pausing, float with out- 

 spread wings, then soaring, pour out 

 torrents of high notes, — allegro-con- 

 fuoco. 



In the black alders further down the 

 lane sound notes of warning. Circling 

 above the trees, a red-winged black- 

 bird, trig as an hussar, is uttering cries 



E 



