SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 147 



but the mosquitoes had rallied with such spirit 

 that I was glad to beat a retreat to the road. 

 Just then an unseen bird broke out into a song, 

 and by the time he had finished I was saying to 

 myself, A winter wren ! Now, if I could only 

 see him in the act, and so be sure of the correct- 

 ness of my guess ! I worked to that end as 

 cautiously as possible, but all to no purpose ; 

 and finally I started abruptly toward the spot 

 whence the sound had come, expecting to see 

 the bird fly. But apparently there was no bird 

 there, and I stood still, in a little perplexity. 

 Then, all at once, the wren appeared, hopping 

 about among the dead branches, within a few 

 yards of my feet, and peering at the intruder 

 with evident curiosity ; and the next moment 

 he was joined by a hermit thrush, equally in- 

 quisitive. Both were silent as dead men, but 

 plainly had no doubt whatever that they were 

 in their own domain, and that it belonged to 

 the- other party to move away. I presumed 

 that the thrush, at least, had a nest not far off, 

 but after a little search (the mosquitoes were 

 still active) I concluded not to intrude further 

 on his domestic privacy. I had heard the 

 wren's famous song, and it had not been over- 

 praised. But then came the inevitable second 

 thought : had I really heard it ? True, the 

 music possessed the wren characteristics, and a 



