XV 
NIGHTHAWK AND WHIP-POOR-WILL 
Rustic people are a little shy of theories and 
“ book-learning.” Not long ago — it was early 
in March — I met an old man who lives by him- 
self in a kind of hermitage in the woods, and 
who knows me in a general way as a bird stu- 
dent. We greeted each other, and I inquired 
whether he had seen any bluebirds yet. No, he 
said, it wasn’t time. 
“ Oh, but they are here,’ I answered. “I saw 
a flock of ten on the 26th of February.” Good- 
natured incredulity came out all over his face. 
“ Did you hear them sing ?”’ he asked. 
“ Yes,” said I; “and, furthermore, I saw 
some this forenoon very near your house.” 
“Well,” he remarked, “ according to my ex: 
perience, it is too early for bluebirds. Besides, 
they never go in flocks ; and when anybody tells 
me at this time of the year that he has seen a 
flock of bluebirds, I always know that he has seen 
some blue snowbirds.”’ 
