THE HERMIT'S NEST. 21 



reflecting that a bog on the side of a mountain 

 must probably be a provision of Mother Na- 

 ture's, an irrigating scheme for the benefit of 

 the hillside vegetation. If all the water ran off 

 at once, we argued, very little could grow there. 

 So we who love to see our hills covered with 

 trees should not complain, but patiently seek the 

 stepping-stones sometimes to be found, or meekly 

 resign ourselves to going in over boot-tops with- 

 out a word. 



Our first destination was the nest of a hermit 

 thrush, discovered by my friend the day before ; 

 and we stumbled and slipped and picked our 

 way a long distance over the dismal swamp, 

 floundering on till we reached a clump of young 

 hemlocks, on ground somewhat more solid, where 

 we could sit down to rest. There was the nest 

 right before us, a nicely made, compact bird 

 home, exquisitely placed in one of the little 

 trees, a foot from the ground. 



While waiting for the owners to appear, I was 

 struck with the beauty of the young hemlocks, 

 so different from most evergreen trees. From 

 the time a hemlock has two twigs above ground 

 it is always picturesque in its method of growth. 

 Its twigs, especially the topmost one, bend over 

 gracefully like a plume. There is no rigid uni- 

 formity among the smaller branches, no two ap- 

 pear to be of the same length, but there is an 



