146 A WEEK ON WALDEN'S RIDGE. 



ornithological list, which, up to this time in- 

 cluded ninety species, and not one of them 

 a water-bird. I did my best, beating round 

 the edge and " squeaking," but startled no- 

 thing rarer than a hooded warbler and a 

 cardinal grosbeak. 



Next I traversed a long stretch of un- 

 broken oak woods, with single tall pines in- 

 terspersed ; and then all at once the path 

 turned to the right, and ran obliquely down- 

 hill to a clearing in which stood a house, 

 not a cabin, with a garden, orchard trees, 

 and beehives. This should be the German 

 shoemaker's, I thought, looking at my map. 

 If so, I was pretty near the top, though 

 otherwise there was no sign of it ; and if I 

 had made any considerable ascent, it had 

 been as children increase in stature, and 

 as the good increase in goodness, uncon- 

 sciously. A woman of some years was in 

 the garden, and at my approach came up 

 to the fence, a round - faced, motherly 

 body. Yes, the top of the mountain was 

 just beyond. I could not miss it. 



" You do not live here ? " she asked. 



No, I explained ; I was a stranger on the 

 Ridge, a stranger from Boston. 



