The Birds' Calendar 



One morning, as I was watching the pranks of 

 a "yellow-rump," darting hither and thither, 

 apparently as much from exuberance of spirits 

 as with foraging intent, my attention was called 

 to a large pearl and white colored bird high in 

 a tree on the border of the Lake, a jet black 

 stripe on its head and back, feet and legs brightly 

 colored, and its long dark bill sunk in the feath- 

 ers of the breast, as if fast asleep. In its im- 

 movable position and bare surroundings it was 

 a most picturesque emblem of solitude, one of 

 those slight but suggestive touches in nature that 

 one is constantly stumbling upon. 



In my helpless ignorance of what it was, I 

 grasped at a straw, and asked a policeman near 

 by if he could enlighten me. Now, experience 

 has taught me that, like many other people in 

 the world, a policeman feels a deep sense of hu- 

 miliation if obliged to confess that he is unable 

 to answer any question propounded to him ; and 

 this one in particular, who was not better than 

 his fathers, promptly and with half contemptu- 

 ous tone told me it was a duck. His assurance 

 was of course not lessened by the fact that he 

 had not fully seen the bird. At first I felt 

 crushed by his wisdom and my own stupidity, 

 forgetting for the instant that the creature in 



