110 A GREEN MOUNTAIN CORN-FIELD. 



his house was further off than I suspected, 

 however, or else he was too cunning to fall 

 into my snare. At any rate, he permitted 

 me to trample all about the spot, without 

 manifesting the first symptom of uneasiness. 

 What a traveler the humming-bird is ! I 

 myself had come perhaps three hundred 

 miles, and had accounted it a long, tiresome 

 journey, notwithstanding I had been brought 

 nearly all the way in a carriage elaborately 

 contrived for comfort, and moving over iron 

 rails. But this tiny insect -like creature 

 spent last winter in Central America, or it 

 may be in Cuba, and now here he sat, per- 

 fectly at home again in this Green Moun- 

 tain nook; and next autumn he will be off 

 again betimes, as the merest matter of 

 course, for another thousand -mile flight. 

 Verily, a marvelous spirit and energy may 

 be contained within a few ounces of flesh ! 

 But if Trochilus be indeed Prospero's ser- 

 vant in disguise, as one of our poets makes 

 out, why, then, to be sure, his Sittings back 

 and forth are little to wonder at. . How 

 slow, overgrown, and clumsy human beings 

 must look in his eyes ! I wonder if he is 

 never tempted to laugh at us. Who knows 



