A COTTON PLANTATION. 187 



was sauntering idly along the path (idleness 

 like this is often the best of ornithological 

 industry), when suddenly I had a vision! 

 Before me, in the leafy top of an oak sap- 

 ling, sat a blue grosbeak. I knew him on 

 the instant. But I could see only his head 

 and neck, the rest of his body being hidden 

 by the leaves. It was a moment of feverish 

 excitement. Here was a new bird, a bird 

 about which I had felt fifteen years of curi- 

 osity ; and, more than that, a bird which here 

 and now was quite unexpected, since it was 

 not included in either of the two Florida 

 lists that I had brought with me from home. 

 For perhaps five seconds I had my opera- 

 glass on the blue head and the thick-set, 

 dark bill, with its lighter-colored under 

 mandible. Then I heard the clatter of a 

 horse's hoofs, and lifted my eyes. My friend 

 the owner of the plantation was coming 

 down the road at a gallop, straight upon me. 

 If I was to see the grosbeak and make sure 

 of him, it must be done at once. I moved 

 to bring him fully into view, and he flew 

 into the thick of a pine-tree out of sight. 



But the tree was not far off, and if Mr. 



would pass me with a nod, the case was still 



