A MONTH’S MUSIC. 298 
ping to a fine contralto note at the end.”” The 
next day I saw nothing of my new friends till 
toward night. Then, after tea, I strolled into 
the chestnut grove, and walking along the path, 
noticed a robin singing freely, remarking the 
fact because this noisy bird had been rather 
quiet of late. Justas I passed under him, how- 
ever, it flashed upon me that the voice and song 
were not exactly the robin’s. They must be 
the rose-breast’s then ; and stepping back to 
look up, I beheld him in gorgeous attire, perched 
in the top of an oak. He sang and sang, while 
I stood quietly listening. Pretty soon he re- 
peated the strain once or twice in a softer voice, 
‘and I glanced up instinctively to see if a female 
were with him; but instead, there were two 
males sitting within a yard of each other. They 
flew off after a little, and I resumed my saunter. 
A party of chimney swifts were shooting hither 
and thither over the trees, a single wood thrush 
was chanting not far away, and in another di- 
rection a tanager was rehearsing his chip-cherr 
with characteristic assiduity. Presently I be- 
gan to be puzzled by a note which came now 
from this side, now from that, and sounded like 
the squeak of a pair of rusty shears. My first 
conjecture about the origin of this hie it would 
hardly serve my reputation to make public ; but 
I was not long in finding out that it was the 
