210 In Touch with Nature. 



Here, upon a pebbly strand, I drew the canoe and 

 rested myself in star-gazing attitude. All things 

 tended to perfecting the reception-room, and my 

 friends overlooked the deficiencies. No invitations 

 had been sent out, and with that delightful infor- 

 mality which is of itself a charm, the birds came 

 trooping in. First a cuckoo, that, deftly swinging 

 on a pendulous twig, clucked or called the rain, as 

 farmers say, and beat time with a graceful swaying 

 of its tail. How few people know this common 

 bird ! All summer one has been living in the 

 maples on the village street, and more than one 

 wise villager has been wondering what queer 

 trouble affected some neighbor's throat. Although 

 there is a cheap edition of Wilson's Ornithology, 

 ignorance of birds is all-prevalent. Ten to one, 

 if a cuckoo is hung in the market-place it will not 

 be recognized. The cuckoo of this morning was 

 as lazy as myself, and yet August is his favorite 

 month. I say this because nesting duties are over 

 and the birds have only themselves to look after. 

 A fat caterpillar rouses him at all times, and what 

 bird-energy means can be learned by discovering 

 an ailanth us-tree covered with cecropia worms at 



