192 A COTTON PLANTATION. 



the exact appearance of that bird. " Feath- 

 ers around base of bill black," said the book. 

 I had not noticed that. But no matter ; the 

 bird was a blue grosbeak, for the sufficient 

 reason that it could not be anything else. 

 A black line between the almost black beak 

 and the dark-blue head would be inconspic- 

 uous at the best, and quite naturally would 

 escape a glimpse so hasty as mine had been. 

 And yet, while I reasoned in this way, I 

 foresaw plainly enough that, as time passed, 

 doubt would get the better of assurance, 

 as it always does, and I should never be cer- 

 tain that I had not been the victim of some 

 illusion. At best, the evidence was worth 

 nothing for others. If only that excellent 



Mr. , for whose kindness I was unfeign- 



edly thankful (and whose pardon I most 

 sincerely beg if I seem to have been a bit too 

 free in this rehearsal of the story), if only 



Mr. could have left me alone for ten 



minutes longer ! 



The worry and the imprecations were 

 wasted, after all, as, Heaven be thanked, 

 they so often are ; for within two or three 

 days I saw other blue grosbeaks and heard 

 them sing. But that was not on a cotton 

 plantation, and is part of another story. 



