The Birds' Cilena.ii 



One morning, as I was watching the pranks of 

 a ** yellow-rump," darting liither and thither, 

 apj^Kirently as much from exuberance of spirits 

 as with foraging intent, my attention was called 

 to a large jiearl and white colored bird high in 

 a tree on the border of the Lake, a jet black 

 strii^ on its head ajid back, feet and legs brightly 

 colored, and its long dark bill sunk in the feath- 

 ers of the breast, as if fist asleep. In its im- 

 movable position and bare surroundings it was 

 a most picturesque emblem of solitude, one of 

 those shght but suggestive touches in nature that 

 one is constantly stumbling upon. 



In my helpless ignorance of what it was, I 

 grasj^d at a straw, and asked a policeman near 

 by if he could enlighten me. Now, experience 

 has taught me that, like many other people in 

 the world, a jx>liceman feels a deep sense of hu- 

 miliation if obliged to confess that he is unable 

 to answer any question propounded to him : and 

 this one in particular, who was not better than 

 his f-ithers, promptly and with half contemptu- 

 ous tone told me it w;\s a duck. His assurance 

 was of course not lessened by the fact that he 

 had not fully seen the bird. At first I felt 

 crushed by his wisdom and my own stupidity, 

 forgetting for the instant that the creature in 



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