92 IN THE HEMLOCKS. 



are mingled hemlock, beech, and birch, the 

 languid midsummer note of the black- 

 throated blue-back falls on my ear. " Twea, 

 twea, twea-e-e ! " in the upward slide, and 

 with the peculiar z-ing of summer insects, 

 but not destitute of a certain plaintive ca- 

 dence. It is one of the most languid, un- 

 hurried sounds in all the woods. I feel like 

 reclining upon the dry leaves at once. Au- 

 dubon says he has never heard his love-song ; 

 but this is all the love-song he has, and he is 

 evidently a very plain hero with his little 

 brown mistress. He assumes few attitudes, 

 and is not a bold and striking gymnast, like 

 many of his kindred. He has a preference 

 for dense woods of beech and maple, moves 

 slowly amid the lower branches and smaller 

 growths, keeping from eight to ten feet from 

 the ground, and repeats now and then his 

 listless, indolent strain. His back and crown 

 are dark blue ; his throat and breast, black ; 

 his belly, pure white ; and he has a white 

 spot on each wing. 



Plere and there I meet the black and 

 white creeping-warbler, whose fine strain re- 

 minds me of hair-wire. It is unquestionably 

 the finest bird-song to be heard. Few insect 

 strains will compare with it in this respect ; 



