26 TRAMPS WITH AN ENTHUSIAST. 



made acquaintance with the tricks and manners 

 of the small dwellers therein, I am satisfied and 

 happy. 



While we lingered in the little hemlock grove, 

 enraptured with the white-throat, and feeling 

 that 



" Here were the place to lie alone all day 

 On shadowed grass, beneath the blessed trees," 



a distant note reached our ever-listening ears. 

 It was the voice of a warbler, and a most allur- 

 ing song. Such indeed we found it, for on the 

 instant the Enthusiast sprang to her feet, alert 

 to her finger-tips, crying, " That 's the bird 

 we 're after ! " adding as usual, as she started 

 across the field, " You sit still ! I won't go 

 far," while as usual, also, I snatched my things 

 and followed. 



The song was in the tone of one of the most 

 bewitching as well as the most elusive of war- 

 blers, the black-throated green ; a bird not so 

 big as one's thumb, with a provoking fondness 

 for the tops of the tallest trees, where foliage is 

 thickest, and for keeping in constant motion, 

 flitting from twig to twig, and from tree to tree, 

 throwing out as he goes 



" The sweetest sound that ever stirred 

 A warbler's throat." 



This one was tireless, as are all of his tribe, and 

 led us a weary dance over big, steep-sided rocks, 



