VIRGINIA BIRD HOMES 
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to gaze upon fluttering multitudes out of my bedroom 
window. But I was soon undeceived, and I found myself 
next morning trudging up the beach northward, weighted 
down with a backload of impedimenta, under the ardor of 
the late June sunshine. For a mile the way was past the 
pine-tract, which contained many great Osprey’s nests, con¬ 
spicuous as hay-mows in the tree-tops. Then came the sandy 
beach, unrelieved by any background save that of the low, 
interminable salt marsh. A tramp of miles upon the sand 
may be wearisome and monotonous, or not, according to 
circumstances. When breezes blow free and the waves are 
flowing, when shore-birds pipe their clear, mellow calls, when 
sea-birds flit gracefully by and plunge into the brine, one 
forgets his burdens and feels as free as they. 
Expecting such conditions, I plodded along, and was re¬ 
warded. After about three miles I began to hear the sounds 
NEST AND EGGS OF THE BLACK SKIMMER 
