170 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



rumped warblers passed through the trees catch- 

 ing insects on the wing. They wore a gold spot 

 on each breast, on their rumps, and on their 

 crowns. Their white throats reminded me of 

 the contour of a swallow's throat. The redstarts 

 were thinking of housekeeping. The yellow- 

 rumps were rangers, foraging on their line of 

 march. In a few days the redstarts will have 

 built the softest little cup in the crotch of a 

 maple in that very grove ; the yellow-rumps will 

 perhaps be north of the Basin of Minas. 



Along the edges of the meadow, in alders and 

 other low thick growth, bits of pure gold 

 shot hither and thither in the sunlight. They 

 were summer yellow-birds. " Sweety, sweety, 

 sweet, sweet, sweet," is a free translation of their 

 song. They, too, were love-making, and will 

 soon be treasuring little spotted eggs in dainty 

 fleece- lined, cup-shaped nests, built in those iden- 

 tical bushes. The Assabet will see their nests 

 begun, but the leaves will grow large and keep 

 the secret. Pine-creeping warblers and black- 

 and-white creeping warblers are appropriately 

 named. Both were abundant by the Assabet, 

 and willing to be watched. They are inspectors 

 of leaves and twigs, as the downy woodpeck- 

 ers and little brown creepers are inspectors of 

 trunks and limbs. All day long the trilling of 

 the pine warblers sounded in the hot air. Seeing 



