WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



robin — rara avis in that locality — and he sang 

 loud and long, not minding his loneliness. Blue- 

 birds were not numerous, but a pair, and perhaps 

 two families, inhabited an old cherry-tree so near 

 to the railway-track that the tops of the passing 

 cars pushed aside the boughs. I have noticed so 

 many nests of birds built in close proximity to rail- 

 ways that I have thought the builders exercised a 

 distinct preference for the situation, as making 

 them safer from the attack of hawks. 



Not an uncommon bird, hopping down between 

 the rails to pick up the grain dropped from the 

 freight-trains, was the turtle-dove, which was an 

 old acquaintance of mine in the West, but which 

 is rare in New England. They were very wary, 

 uttered no note, and came with the silence of ghosts. 

 If I only stirred when they were near — whir! away 

 went my doves, straight and swift as an arrow, 

 spreading their white-edged tails. 



A portion of the following summer I spent on 

 the Little Kanawha, and many a day was I en- 

 tertained by the notes of the turtle-dove floating 

 down from a hill-top as I threaded my way through 

 the woods. Among the most common of birds in 

 West Virginia, the people yet regarded it with af- 

 fection, and made as great a disturbance if one 



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