164 DOWN THE MEADOW. 



in a white cloud over the far-off beach, but 

 small birds of several kinds, who never came 

 near enough to dry land to be identified. Sharp- 

 tailed sparrows appeared on the meadow after 

 grass was cut, and their exquisite ringing trill 

 could always be heard from the bank ; crows 

 fed upon it every day ; blackbirds' wings were 

 always over it ; and above all, sandpipers were 

 there, 



" Calling clear and sweet from cove to cove." 



One afternoon, starting down the meadow on 

 my usual visit to the sandpiper little folk, I 

 heard a low cry of " flick-er ! flick-er ! " and 

 there on the grass before me were two of the 

 birds face to face. One was an adult, but the 

 other was a nearly grown young one, and I saw 

 in an instant that I had unwittingly intruded 

 upon the breakfast he was about to receive. In 

 the goldenwing family — as perhaps not every 

 one knows — a repast is not over with one poke 

 into an open bill ; it is a far more serious affair 

 indeed. The young bird opens his mouth a 

 little, the parent thrusts his — or her — beak 

 down the waiting throat, until one would think 

 the infant must be choked, and then the elder 

 delivers little pokes, as he crams down the 

 mouthfuls, six, eight, even ten I have counted 

 before he stops. Then the heads draw apart, 

 and the grown-up — who has plainly come well 



