146 IValks in New England 



The earth is now as rich as in June in wonder 

 and power in our woods and fields. Much of 

 the charm has departed, for no doubt the stages 

 of the spring catch us more graciously and hold 

 us more tenderly than any others, and the sump 

 tuous vitality of early summer is profoundly cap 

 tivating, with its apple blooms and its roses, and 

 every fern growing into perfection, and all the 

 trees rich with verdant glory, and the birds utter 

 ing their varied melodies. But midsummer has 

 its own charms, not altogether without music 

 either, for the song-sparrow never ceases to sing, 

 and the wood thrush is now at his height of song, 

 while the hermit thrush in the depths of the for 

 est is sure to send forth his evening hymn. But 

 besides these, how many delicious bits of song are 

 heard, by those who wander in unfrequented thick 

 ets, from lesser members of the singing craft. 

 Yes, the time of courtship is past, but it is a libel 

 on many of the tribes of birds to say that they 

 only sing in that period ; some of them sing al 

 ways, and wherever they are. There are odds in 

 birds as in men. Certainly one who in deep win 

 ter woods has heard the chickadees and the moun 

 tain sparrows sibilating back and forth in the 

 frosty air knows that the note of tenderness lasts 

 in beauty, though it changes its insistence and its 

 accent. So long as these little creatures chirp and 



