THE SUMMIT OF THE YEARS 



to call the attention of my friends to it to have them 

 hear the words that I heard, "If, if, if you please, 

 Mr. Durkee," - the last word a little prolonged, 

 and with a rising inflection. Another was not quite 

 so well expressed by these words: "Please, please, 

 speak to me, sweetheart." The third one suggested 

 this sentence: "Then, f ,then, Fitzhugh says, yes, sir!" 

 The fourth one was something like this: "If, if, if 

 you seize her, do it quick." The fifth one baffled me 

 to suggest by words. But in August his musical 

 enthusiasm began to decline. His different songs 

 lost their distinctiveness and emphasis. It was as if 

 they had faded and become blurred with the prog- 

 ress of the season. 



The little birds are insignificant and unobtrusive 

 on the great background of nature, yet if one learns 

 to distinguish them and to love them, their songs 

 may become a sort of accompaniment to one's 

 daily life. Last May, while I was much occupied in 

 repairing and making habitable my old farmhouse, 

 a solitary mourning ground- warbler, which one 

 rarely sees or hears, came and tarried about the 

 place for a week or ten days, singing most of each 

 forenoon in the orchard and garden about the house, 

 and giving to my occupation a touch of something 

 rare and sylvan. He lent to the old apple-trees, which 

 I had known as a boy, an interest that the boy 

 knew not. Then he went away, whether on the ar- 

 rival of his mate or not I do not know. 

 44 



