motes ot tbe IFUgbt 



with regret. We read with feelings akin to envy 

 of the nightingale ; but let us be thankful that the 

 music of a wood-thrush has been vouchsafed to us. 



My pleasant thoughts were interrupted by old 

 Pullen calling out, " Ain't you never goin' home ? " 

 I had not thought of such a thing, and on exam- 

 ination could not discover that I was sleepy. In- 

 deed, the thought of a rather long walk over lonely 

 meadows at such a time was not pleasant to dwell 

 upon, and I asked, " Can't you stay a little 

 longer ? " " Got to, I s'pose," he growled, and 

 sank into his corner like a surly dog. 



A moment later, a kingfisher passed over us. 

 There was no mistaking the bird's flight, and there 

 was no need for the bird to announce its coming 

 by springing a rattle, as it does in broad daylight. 

 Do they often fly at night, even when light as it 

 then was? I could learn nothing from Pullen. 

 This bird, it would seem, entered as much into 

 Indian folk-lore as its cousins have figured in 

 European legend. Its strong beak has been found 

 in graves, with other trinkets, and there are songs 

 and stories about it in the Lenape tongue. I 

 have since had opportunity to inquire as to the 

 kingfisher's habits, and find a difference of opin- 

 ion. One miller was positive the birds at his 

 pond were active on moonlight nights; another 

 said he never had seen evidence of this. My 

 suggestion that he never particularly noticed them 

 or any birds was met with an indignant denial, and 

 67 



