A Book on Birds 



he wist not of will begin to manifest them- 

 selves. 



Thus do we find it this afternoon. First 

 we hear the stealthy "chuck, chuck!" 

 of Wood Thrushes; then the two, high, 

 noisy notes of the Kingfisher, which, ming- 

 ling with those of the Blue Jay, seem very 

 like them to-day; then the creaky little 

 voice of the Downy Woodpecker. And 

 then we not only hear sounds but commence 

 to "see things''; and, behold, the emptiness 

 is peopled with our friends! 



From under the bridge come two Phoebes; 

 immediately overhead the smooth gray 

 figure of a Catbird em^erges from the faintly 

 rustling foliage, the big spot of mahogany- 

 brown showing plain beneath the long tail- 

 feathers; over the tulip tree, right beyond 

 the fence a Kingbird hovers in that quick, 

 nervous flight of his resembhng exactly his 

 piercing note, and both of them in direct 

 contrast with the quiet movements and 

 voice of his crested cousin, who alights on 

 a hmb below. Then the sleek, well-groomed 

 Yellow-billed Cuckoo; and the Baltimore 



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