104 THE ''bird of the MUSICAL WING:' 



" Rare little bird of the bower, 

 Bird of the musical wing." 



No sooner did the great red trumpets begin to 

 open than their winged admirers appeared, and 

 the special object of my interest — whether by- 

 right of discovery or by force of will I could not 

 determine — asserted her claim to the vine and 

 its vicinity, and at once proceeded to evict every 

 pretender to any share of the treasure. Nor was 

 it a difficult task; for though the smallest of 

 our birds, the ruby-throat is perhaps the most 

 spirited. No bird, not even the mighty eagle, 

 standard-bearer of the republic, is too big for 

 this midget to attack, and none fails to retire 

 before his rapier-like beak. Madam of the vine 

 lacked none of the courage and self-assertion of 

 her race, and a few lively skirmishes convinced 

 the neighbors, with one exception, that this 

 particular crop of blossoms was preempted and 

 no trespassing allowed. That matter haj^pily 

 arranged, she settled down in peace to enjoy 

 her estate, and I followed her example. 



July was nearly half gone when blossoms 

 began to unclose on the vine and my lady took 

 possession. The world about the house and 

 orchard was full of melody, for goldfinches were 

 just celebrating their nuptials, and birds have 

 to furnish their own wedding music. Though a 

 march may express the pomp and ceremony of 



