70 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



dear old tune, but well marked by the " Pea- 

 body" triplets. It was a true touch of 

 autumn, a voice from the hills. 



Shortly before this I had spent a long 

 time in watching the actions of a Lincoln 

 finch. He was feeding upon Roman worm- 

 wood seeds by the roadside, in company with 

 two or three chipping sparrows ; very meek 

 and quiet in his demeanor, and happily not 

 disposed to resent my inquisitiveness, which 

 I took pains to render as little offensive as 

 possible. I had not seen the like of him 

 since May, and have seen so few of his race 

 at any time that every new one still makes 

 for me an hour of agreeable excitement. 



In the same neighborhood an indigo-bird 

 surprised me with a song. He was as badly 

 out of voice as the white-throat, but his spirit 

 was good, and he sang several times over. 

 One would never have expected music from 

 him, to look at his plumage. The indigo 

 color was largely moulted away only the 

 rags of it left. It was really pitiful to see 

 him ; so handsome a coat, now nothing but 

 shreds and patches. Most likely he was 

 not a traveler from farther north, but a lin- 



