82 DYER'S HOLLOW. 



along the roadside and on the edge of the 

 thickets, I should think, yet I cannot recol- 

 lect them, nor does the name appear in my 

 penciled memoranda. Had the month been 

 June instead of August, notebook and mem- 

 ory would record a very different story, I 

 can hardly doubt; but out of flower is out 

 of mind. 



In the course of my many visits to Dyer's 

 Hollow I saw thirty-three kinds of birds, of 

 the eighty-four species in my full Truro list. 

 The number of individuals was small, how- 

 ever, and, except at its lower end, the val- 

 ley was, or appeared to be, nearly destitute 

 of feathered life. A few song sparrows, a 

 cat-bird or two, a chewink or two, a field 

 sparrow, and perhaps a Maryland yellow- 

 throat might be seen above the last houses, 

 but as a general thing the bushes and trees 

 were deserted. Walking here, I could for 

 the time almost forget that I had ever owned 

 a hobby-horse. But farther down the hollow 

 there was one really "birdy " spot, to bor- 

 row a word useful enough to claim lexico- 

 graphical standing from one of my com- 

 panions: a tiny grove of stunted oaks, by 

 the roadside, just at the point where I nat- 



