MY REAL ESTATE. 19 



tumbling down the hill -side, dashing 

 against the bowlders (of which the land 

 has plenty), and altogether acting like a 

 thing not born to die ; but alas, the early 

 summer sees it make an end, to wait the 

 melting of next winter's snow. Many a 

 happy hour did I, as a youngster, pass 

 upon its banks, watching with wonder the 

 swarms of tiny insects which darkened the 

 foam and the snow, and even filmed the 

 surface of the brook itself. I marveled 

 then, as I do now, why such creatures 

 should be out so early. Possibly our very 

 prompt March friend, the phoebe, could 

 suggest an explanation. 



A break in the forest is of interest not 

 only to such plants as I have been remark- 

 ing upon, but also to various species of 

 birds. No doubt the towhee, the brown 

 thrush, and the cat-bird found out this spot 

 years ago, and have been using it ever since 

 for summer quarters. Indeed, a cat-bird 

 snarled at me for an intruder this very 

 September afternoon, though he himself 

 was most likely nothing more than a chance 

 pilgrim going South. This member of the 

 noble wren family and near cousin of the 



