198 SOME TENNESSEE BIED NOTES. 



eron Hill, in the city of Chattanooga, 

 one side of which is occupied by dwellings, 

 while the other drops to the river so precipi- 

 tously as to be almost inaccessible, and is 

 even yet, I was told, an abode of foxes. On 

 the day after my arrival I strolled to the 

 top of the hill toward evening, and in the 

 pines found a few black -polls and yellow- 

 rumps. I was in a listless mood, having 

 already taken a fair day's exercise under an 

 intolerable sun, but I waked up with a start 

 when my glass fell on a bird which at a 

 second glance showed the red cheeks of a 

 Cape May warbler. For a moment I was 

 almost in poor Susan's case, 



" I looked, and my heart was in heaven." 



Then, all too soon, as happened to poor 

 Susan also, the vision faded. But I had 

 seen it. Yes, here it was in Tennessee, the 

 rarity for which, spring after spring, I had 

 been so many years on the watch. I had 

 come South to find it, after all, a bird 

 that breeds from the northern border of New 

 England to Hudson's Bay ! 



It is of the nature of such excitements 

 that, at the time, the subject of them has no 



