A WORD AT THE START. H 



neighborhood, and a suspicion crosses my mind that, 

 childlike, he "made believe" to have discovered the 

 beauty of the locality, hoping it would please the dark- 

 eyed damsel. In this he succeeded. She was pleased, 

 and all would have gone well, had he not, so soon after, 

 passed away. From about this time these meadows and 

 the bluff attracted many naturalists of repute, then living 

 in Philadelphia. Conrad the elder, botanist and miner- 

 alogist ; Conrad the geologist, his son ; and Rafinesque, 

 Say, Le Seure, Bonaparte, Wilson, and others, all rambled 

 about here. Indeed, the names of some, cut by them- 

 selves, are still to be deciphered on one of the old beeches 

 that guards a famous spring, where they were wont to 

 halt at noon-time. 



An instructive, pleasant, leisurely stroll is not un- 

 profitable, even if the more striking objects of natural 

 history are absent. It is a sad error to suppose that the 

 most familiar of our birds, to say nothing of other forms 

 of life, both vegetable and animal, can ever be so familiar 

 that nothing further can be learned by observing them. 

 There is a percentage of probability so large that we may 

 detect something quite new to us in the habits even of 

 the little social chipping sparrow, that it is unwise even 

 for the experienced ornithologist to pass them by un- 

 heeded. If it is early summer, you may happen to find 

 its nest. Of course, you know it is always lined with 

 hair. Well, look at the nest you have found, neverthe- 

 less, if you can without disturbing it, and perhaps you 

 may find a different material used. I did once, and once 

 only, and it was a more pleasant discovery than many I 

 have since made. As I continued my walk that same 

 day, I pondered long on the subject of variation in nest- 

 building, and found half a dozen other nests of birds be- 

 fore I returned. One was a delicate, pensile structure, 



