A DAINTY WARBLER. 



It was one of those perfect days of early spring, 

 when the unflecked sky was a shining vault, and 

 the air was as soft and balmy as a lover of out-door 

 life could wish. I was driving with a friend along 

 a pleasant countr}^ road which pursued the banks of 

 a broad river. Suddenly I drew rein and brought 

 the carriage to a halt. I had caught sight of a 

 dainty little bird hopping about on the greensward 

 of an old orchard, and I felt sure it must be a new 

 specimen ; one I had never seen before. With 

 beating pulses I flung the lines to my companion, 

 leaped from the carriage, and vaulted at a bound 

 over the rail fence. (A bird student, by the way, 

 soon becomes quite spry and athletic, however 

 awkward he may be naturally.) 



In a moment I had the bird in the field of my 

 opera glass, and then exclaimed, with what delight 

 you may imagine: "The myrtle warbler!" It 

 was a bird for which I had been on the alert for a 

 long time. I knew him at once, because I had 



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