A HERMIT'S WILD FRIENDS 



and sing one song, and then fly away to his 

 mate. Sometimes I could coax him to repeat 

 the song by talking to him earnestly and 

 rapidly. My visitors thought that the song 

 was strange, and often it was suggested that 

 it was on account of the nearness of the 

 singer. But the song was not the one with 

 which they were familiar. It was a new song, 

 low, sweet, and tender, with nothing in it 

 to remind one of the loud, joyous carol heard 

 in the springtime. 



Wabbles called me at daybreak every morn- 

 ing. He was jealous of the other birds, and 

 drove them away, when he thought they were 

 too friendly with me. A catbird and a veery 

 hopped about my hammock mornings, and 

 Wabbles attacked them so furiously that it 

 made me wonder why they did not keep away 

 for good. Wabbles did not allow other birds 

 to eat in the dooryard until he had satisfied 

 his appetite. Visitors asserted that he was 

 a tyrant, but I did not look at his warlike 

 actions in that light. He thought that he 



60 



