152 SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 



then he had never chanced to use that particu- 

 lar note while under my eye. 



There was a certain tract of country, wood- 

 land and pasture, over which I roamed a good 

 many times, and which is still clearly mapped 

 out in my memory. Here I found my first 

 Carolina or mocking wren, who ran in at one 

 side of a woodpile and came out at the other as 

 I drew near, and who, a day or two afterwards, 

 sang so loudly from an oak tree that I ransacked 

 it with my eye in search of some large bird, 

 and was confounded when finally I discovered 

 who the musician really was. Here, every day, 

 were to be heard the glorious song of the car- 

 dinal grosbeak, the insect-like effort of the blue- 

 gray gnat-catcher, and the rigmarole of the yel- 

 low - breasted chat. On a wooded hillside, 

 where grew a profusion of trailing arbutus, 

 pink azalea, and bird-foot violets, the rowdy- 

 ish, great-crested flycatchers were screaming in 

 the tree-tops. In this same grove I twice saw 

 the rare red-bellied woodpecker, who, on both 

 occasions, after rapping smartly with his beak, 

 turned his head and laid his ear against the 

 trunk, evidently listening to see whether his 

 alarm had set any grub a-stirring. Near by, 

 in an undergrowth, I fell in with a few worm- 

 eating warblers. They seemed of a peculiarly 

 unsuspicious turn of mind, and certainly wore 



