A GREEN MOUNTAIN CORN-FIELD. 109 



neighboring tree-top. At least two pairs of 

 rose-breasted grosbeaks had summer quar- 

 ters here ; and busy enough they looked, flit- 

 ting from one side of the garden to another, 

 yet not too busy for a tune between whiles. 

 One of the males was in really gorgeous 

 plumage. The rose-color had run over, as 

 it were (like Aaron's " precious ointment "), 

 and spilled all down his breast. It is hard 

 for me ever to think of this brilliant, tropi- 

 cally dressed grosbeak as a true Northerner ; 

 and here once more I was for the moment 

 surprised to hear him and the olive-backed 

 thrush singing together in the same wood. 

 Could such neighborliness have any patri- 

 otic significance ? I was almost ready to ask. 

 Across the corn-field a Traill's flycatcher 

 was tossing up his head pertly, and vocifer- 

 ating kwee-kwee. I took it for a challenge : 

 " Find my nest if you can, brother ! " But 

 I found nothing. Nor was I more success- 

 ful with a humming-bird, who had chosen 

 the tip of a charred stub, only a few rods 

 from my seat, for his favorite perch. Again 

 and again I saw him there preening his 

 feathers, and once or twice I tried to invei- 

 gle him into betraying his secret. Either 



