SPRING 95 



again there was nothing like certainty. And 

 again I lost him. With the trees so thick, 

 and the birds so small and so active, it was 

 impossible to do better. I had missed my 

 chance, I thought ; but just then something 

 stirred among the leaves of a fir tree close 

 by me, on the very edge of the swamp, and 

 the next moment a bird stepped upon the 

 outermost twig, as near me as he could get, 

 and stood there fully displayed : a splendid 

 Cape May, in superb color, my first New 

 England specimen. " Look at me," he said ; 

 "this is for your benefit." And I looked 

 with both eyes. Who would not be an or- 

 nithologist, with sights like this to reward 

 him? 



The procession moved on, by the air line, 

 impossible for me to follow. The Cape 

 May, of course, had departed with the rest. 

 So I assumed, without warrant, as will 

 presently appear. But I had no quarrel 

 with Fate. For a plodding, wingless crea- 

 ture, long accustomed to his disabilities, I 

 was being handsomely used. The soul is 

 always seeking new things, says a celebrated 

 French philosopher, and is always pleased 



