Vol i's96 in ] Hoffmann, Summer Birds of the Rhine. 307 



port of man, but never, so far as I could find out, abusing his 

 privileges. The Sparrow, I found, was disliked in Germany, 

 almost as much as he is here. 



On descending the hill I came to a little town on the banks of 

 the Rhine, where I waited for the return of the boat to Bonn. 

 The trees in the town gardens were gay with cherries and apri- 

 cots, and here and there among them I heard the whistle of a 

 Blackbird, for he as well as his American cousin, the Robin, 

 likes to sheathe his gold dagger of a bill in a juicy cherry. The 

 houses along the river were the resort of Eave Swallows, Martins 

 as the English call them, corresponding curiously to our Cliff 

 Swallows. Their cup shaped nests of mud lined the eaves, and 

 the white rumps of the birds flashed in the sunlight, as they flew 

 up to feed their hungry young. 



At Coblenz, four hours above Bonn, the fortress of Ehrenbreit- 

 stein marks the beginning of the highlands of the Rhine, through 

 which the swift stream has cut a winding course between rugged 

 banks, cut in their turn by tributary brooks. In the midst of 

 the most picturesque portion of these hills, on a narrow strip 

 of land at their base, lies the town, or street more properly, of St. 

 Goar, a single line of houses directly under the bank. On the 

 hill above it stands a mighty ruin, Ruine Rheinfels. The oppo- 

 site strand is occupied by another line of houses, and above 

 and below this, stand two fine ruins, Katz and Maus. A mile 

 or so farther up, the Lorelie-rock rises so precipitously from the 

 river that the railroad has to pass under it through a tunnel. The 

 hills are flat topped as if the whole surface had once formed a 

 plain, now cut down for a second time in all directions. 



In this charming town I spent July 18 and 19, and returning 

 Aug. 11, spent another afternoon and morning on the hillsides 

 and in the fields. The steep slope directly behind the town was 

 almost entirely included in a large estate, through which I obtained 

 permission to wander. The whole hillside was thickly wooded 

 with a young growth of mixed timber, through which paths led in 

 all directions. Here and there vistas had been cut, overlooking 

 the swift stream below, or giving a distant view of the Ruine Katz 

 on the opposite shore. This wood I visited twice and found in it 

 each time a roving crew of small birds, constituted so like our 



