A MONTH'S MUSIC. 293 



ping to a fine contralto note at the end." The 

 next day I saw nothing of my new friends till 

 toward night. Then, after tea, I strolled into 

 the chestnut grove, and walking along the path, 

 noticed a robin singing freely, remarking the 

 fact because this noisy bird had been rather 

 quiet of late. Just as I passed under him, how- 

 ever, it flashed upon me that the voice and song 

 were not exactly the robin's. They must be 

 the rose-breast's then ; and stepping back to 

 look up, I beheld him in gorgeous attire, perched 

 in the top of an oak. He sang and sang, while 

 I stood quietly listening. Pretty soon he re- 

 peated the strain once or twice in a softer voice, 

 and I glanced up instinctively to see if a female 

 were with him ; but instead, there were two 

 males sitting within a yard of each other. They 

 flew off after a little, and I resumed my saunter. 

 A party of chimney swifts were shooting hither 

 and thither over the trees, a single wood thrush 

 was chanting not far away, and in another di- 

 rection a tanager was rehearsing his chip-cherr 

 with characteristic assiduity. Presently I be- 

 gan to be puzzled by a note which came now 

 from this side, now from that, and sounded like 

 the squeak of a pair of rusty shears. My first 

 conjecture about the origin of this hie it would 

 hardly serve my reputation to make public ; but 

 I was not long in finding out that it was the 



