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- 



