A HESITATING MOSQUITO. 21 



nest I had found, when the lonely mosquito 

 came as far as the rim of my shade hat, and 

 hovered there, evidently meditating an attack 

 a mosquito hesitating ! I could not stir a hand, 

 or even shake my leafy twig; but it did not 

 require such violent measures ; a light puff of 

 breath this side or that was enough to discour- 

 age the gentle creature, and in all the hours I 

 sat there it never once came any nearer. The 

 race increased, however, and became rather 

 troublesome on the veranda after tea; but in 

 the grove they were never annoying ; I rarely 

 saw half a dozen. When I remember the tor- 

 tures endured in the dear old woods of the East, 

 in spite of " lollicopop " and pennyroyal, and 

 other horrors with which I have tried to repel 

 them, I could almost decide to live and die in 

 Colorado. 



The morning bird chorus in the cottonwood 

 grove where I spent my June was a great shock 

 to me. If my tent had been pitched near the 

 broad plains in which the meadow-lark delights, 

 I might have wakened to the glorious song of 

 this bird of the West. It is not a chorus, indeed, 

 for one rarely hears more than a single performer, 

 but it is a solo that fully makes up for want of 

 numbers, and amply satisfies the lover of bird 

 music, so strong, so sweet, so moving are his 

 notes. 



