IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 93 
to overtake me before I could reach the bottom. 
I wondered whether the architects really pos- 
sessed an eye for color, or had only stumbled 
upon this elegant bit of decoration. On the 
whole, it seemed more charitable to conclude the 
former ; and not only morecharitable, but more 
scientific aswell. For,if I understand the mat- 
ter aright, Mr. Darwin and his followers have 
settled upon the opinion that birds do display 
an unmistakable fondness for bright tints ; that, 
indeed, the males of many species wear brilliant 
plumage for no other reason than that their 
mates prefer-them in that dress. Moreover, if 
a bird in New South Wales adorns her bower 
with shells and other ornaments, why may not 
our little Northern darling beautify her nest 
with such humbler materials as her surround- 
ings offer? On reflection, I am more and more 
convinced that the birds knew what they were 
doing; probably the female, the moment she 
discovered the moss, called to her mate, ‘‘ Oh, 
look, how lovely! Do, my dear, let ’s line our 
nest with it!” 
This artistic structure was found on the an- 
niversary of the battle of Bunker Hill, a day 
which I had been celebrating, as best I could, 
by climbing the highest hill in New England. 
Plunging into the woods within fifty yards of 
the Crawford House, I had gone up and up, 
