FIRST MEETINGS. 43 



the song-sparrow when I saw him or heard his 

 trill, nor could I distinguish him from his cousin 

 of the upland pastures, the grass-finch. It was a 

 long time before I learned to tell the chipping spar- 

 row and the bush sparrow apart. When I first 

 saw the little summer warbler, I supposed he 

 must be a goldfinch that had lost the black feath- 

 ers of his wings and crown ; and that exquisite 

 arboreal tilter, the redstart, threw me into a per- 

 fect tumult for several days, before I could fix his 

 place in my descriptive catalogue ; and I was in 

 ecstasy when at last I discovered his identity. I 

 do not make these personal confessions to be 

 laughed at by the expert ornithologist, but for 

 the encouragement of the beginner, who may be 

 tempted to relinquish his study when he sees the 

 vastness and complexity of the field. 



First meetings with birds are like first meetings 

 with valued and congenial friends ; they are never 

 forgotten. How often we say to our dear ones, 

 " Do you remember our first meeting ? " Never 

 shall I forget the thrill of pleasure I felt one lovely 

 spring day, when I made the acquaintance of one 

 of my favorite woodland songsters. It was still 

 early in the season, before the leaves had sprung, 

 and I was tramping along the banks of the St. 



