16 JUNE IN FRANCONIA. 
a Blackburnian warbler perched, as usual, 
at the very top of a tall spruce, his orange 
throat flashing fire as he faced the sun, 
and his song, as my notebook expresses it, 
“sliding up to high Z at the end” in his 
quaintest and most characteristic fashion. I 
spent nearly three hours in climbing the 
mountain path, and during all that time saw 
and heard only twelve kinds of birds: red- 
starts, Canada warblers (near the base), 
black-throated blues, black-throated greens, 
Nashvilles, black - polls, red-eyed vireos, 
snowbirds (no white-throated sparrows! ), 
winter wrens, Swainson and gray-cheeked 
thrushes, and yellow - bellied flycatchers. 
Black-poll and Nashville warblers were es- 
pecially numerous, as they are also upon 
Mount Washington, and, as far as I have 
seen, upon the White Mountains generally. 
The feeble, sharp song of the black-poll is a 
singular affair; short and slight as it is, it 
embraces a perfect crescendo and a perfect 
decrescendo. Without question I passed 
plenty of white-throated sparrows, but by 
some coincidence not one of them announced 
himself. The gray-cheeked thrushes, which 
sang freely, were not heard till I was per- 
