THE INVITATION. 



YEARS ago, when quite a youth, I was 

 rambling in the woods one Sunday with my 

 brothers, gathering black birch, wintergreens, 

 etc., when, as we reclined upon the ground, 

 gazing vaguely up into the trees, I caught 

 sight of a bird that paused a moment on a 

 branch above me, the like of which I had 

 never before seen or heard of. It was prob- 

 ably the blue yellow-backed warbler, as I 

 have since found this to be a common bird 

 in those woods ; but to my young fancy it 

 seemed like some fairy bird, so curiously 

 marked was it, and so new and unexpected. 

 I saw it a moment as the flickering leaves 

 parted, noted the white spot on its wing, and 

 it was gone. How the thought of it clung 

 to me afterward ! It was a revelation. It 

 was the first intimation I had had that the 

 woods we knew so well held birds that we 

 knew not at all. Were our eyes and ears so 

 dull, then ? There was the robin, the blue- 

 jay, the bluebird, the yellow-bird, the cherry- 



