A WEEK ON WALDEN'S RIDGE. 135 



enjoyable at the time, and so much pleas- 

 anter in the retrospect, than many that are 

 more reasonably employed. 



I swallowed my disappointment, and 

 presently forgot it, for at the first turn in 

 the road I found myself following the 

 course of a brook or creek, between which 

 and myself was a dense thicket of mountain 

 laurel and rhododendron, with trees and 

 other shrubs intermingled. The laurel was 

 already in full bloom, while the rhododen- 

 drons held aloft clusters of gorgeous rose- 

 purple buds, a few of which, the middle ones 

 of the cluster, were just bursting into flower. 

 Here was beauty of a new order, such 

 wealth and splendor of color in surroundings 

 so romantic. And the place, besides, was 

 alive with singing birds : hooded warblers, 

 Kentucky warblers, a Canadian warbler, a 

 black-throated blue, a black-throated green, 

 a blue yellow-back, scarlet tanagers, wood 

 pewees, wood thrushes, a field sparrow (on 

 the hillside beyond) a cardinal, a chat, a 

 bunch of white-throated sparrows, and who 

 could tell what else? It was an exciting 

 moment. Luckily, a man can look and 

 listen both at once. Here was a fringe- 



