VIII. 



YOUNG AMERICA IN FEATHERS. 



" How like are birds and men ! " said Emer- 

 son, and if he had known nature's loveliest 

 creatures as well as he did his own race, he 

 might have affirmed it more emphatically ; for 

 to know birds well is to be astonished at the 

 " human nature " they display. 



In our latitude July is distinctly the babies' 

 month. When wild roses give place to sun- 

 kissed meadow lilies, when daisies drop their 

 petals and meadow-sweet whitens the pastures, 

 when blueberries peep out from their glossy 

 coverts and raspberries begin to redden on the 

 hill, then from every side come the baby cries 

 of younglings just out of the nest, and every- 

 where are anxious parents hurrying about, seek- 

 ing food to stuff hungry little mouths, or trying 

 to keep too venturesome young folk out of dan- 

 ger. For Young Americans in feathers are 

 wonderfully like Young Americans in lawn in 

 self-confidence and recklessness. 



One evening in a certain July, up on the 

 coast of Maine, I watched the frantic efforts of 



