A SUN-WORSHIPER. 25 



The grove was the audience room where one 

 might be in the shade and not too conspicuous 

 in watching him. His chosen place was in the 

 sunshine, for this bird is a sun-worshiper. I 

 always found him singing when I reached the 

 spot. Perhaps on the top spike of a young 

 pine-tree, balanced on one, or sometimes on 

 two adjoining top twigs — which of course 

 stand straight up — stood the singer, madly 

 shouting his most peculiar medley. He looked 

 at me as I passed near his perch, but did not 

 pause in his song. After I had taken my seat 

 he flew . — singing as he went — alighted nearer, 

 on the upper sprig of a cedar, turned his eyes 

 upon me, and treated me to another perform- 

 ance, while I looked and listened enchanted. 



Nor was I the only listener. Ever and anon 

 while absorbed in the entertainment, or waiting, 

 breathless, for a new note, I was startled by a 

 rustle, and a low " Good evenin' Missis," and 

 glanced up to see a negro stealing along in a 

 stealthy way. It might be a woman with a 

 big bundle or basket on her head, possibly a 

 slouching young man or " boy " with an air of 

 interest in my eccentric proceedings, or a group 

 of youngsters with nothing particular to do, 

 but one and all perfectly silent in movement. 

 No wonder they know all about the birds, and 

 lay violent hands on eggs, nests, or nestlings as 



