ON THE ST. AUGUSTINE ROAD. 171 



dooryard. " Yes," he said, " I love to hear 

 'em. They 's very amusin', very amusin'." 

 My own feeling can hardly be a prejudice, 

 conscious or unconscious, in favor of what 

 has grown dear to me through early and 

 long-continued association. The difference 

 between the music of birds like the mocker, 

 the thrasher, and the catbird and that of 

 birds like the hermit, the veery, and the 

 wood thrush is one of kind, not of degree ; 

 and I have heard music of the mocking- 

 bird's kind (the thrasher's, that is to say) 

 as long as I have heard music at all. The 

 question is one of taste, it is true ; but it is 

 not a question of familiarity or favoritism. 

 All praise to the mocker and the thrasher ! 

 May their tribe increase ! But if we are to 

 indulge in comparisons, give me the wood 

 thrush, the hermit, and the veery; with 

 tones that the mocking-bird can never imi- 

 tate, and a simplicity which the Fates the 

 wise Fates, who will have variety have 

 put forever beyond his appreciation and his 

 reach. 



Florida as I saw it (let the qualification 

 be noted) is no more a land of flowers than 

 New England. In some respects, indeed, it 



