16 FOOTING IT IN FRANCONIA 



headed fellow is directly at my elbow. I 

 stretch out my hand, and chirp encourag- 

 ingly. He comes within three or four feet 

 of it, and looks and looks at me, but is not 

 to be coaxed nearer. Sick-a-day-day-day, 

 he calls again (" I don't like strangers," he 

 means to tell me), and away he flits. He is 

 almost always here, and right glad I am to 

 see him on my annual visit. I have never 

 been favored with a sight of him further 

 south. 



The lake is like a mirror, and I sit in the 

 boat with the sun on my back (as comfort- 

 able as a butterfly), listening and looking. 

 What else can I do? I have pulled out 

 far enough to bring the top of Lafayette 

 into view above the trees, and have put 

 down the oars. The birds are mostly in- 

 visible. Chickadees can be heard talking 

 among themselves, a flicker calls wicker, 

 wicker, whatever that means, and once a 

 kingfisher springs his rattle. Red squirrels 

 seem to be ubiquitous, full of sauciness and 

 chatter. How very often their clocks need 

 winding ! A few big dragon-flies are still 

 shooting over the water. But the best thing 



