ee nae 
ON BOSTON COMMON. 19 
the nests of. smaller birds, and is always skulk- 
ing about from one tree to another, as though 
he were afraid of being discovered, as no doubt 
he is. What Wordsworth wrote of the Euro- 
pean species (allowance being made for a 
proper degree of poetic license) is equally ap- 
plicable to ours : — 
‘* No bird, but an invisible thing, 
A voice, a mystery.’’ 
When I did finally get a sight of the fellow it 
was on this wise. As I entered the Garden, 
one morning in September, a goldfinch was 
calling so persistently and with such anxious 
emphasis from the large sophora tree that I 
turned my steps that way to ascertain what | 
could be the trouble. I took the voice for a 
young bird’s, but found instead a male adult, 
who was twitching his tail nervously and scold- 
ing phee-phee, phee-phee, at a black-billed 
cuckoo perched near at hand, in his usual 
sneaking attitude. The goldfinch called and 
called, till my patience was nearly spent. 
- (Small birds know better than to attack a big 
one so long as the latter is at rest.) Then, at 
last, the cuckoo started off, the finch after him, 
and a few minutes later I saw the same flight 
and chase repeated. Several other goldfinches 
were flying about in the neighborhood, but 
only this one was in the least excited. Doubt- 
