SPRING 103 



nothing for it few as my days were grow- 

 ing but 1 must visit the place again, on 

 the chance of finding the Cape May still 

 there. And he was] there ; sitting, for part 

 of the time, at the very tip (on the terminal 

 bud, to speak exactly) of a pointed fir. 

 There, as elsewhere, he sang persistently, 

 sometimes with three zees, sometimes with 

 four, but always in an unhurried monotone. 

 It was the simplest and most primitive kind 

 of music, to say the best of it, many an 

 insect would perhaps have done as well; but 

 somehow, with the author of it before me, I 

 pronounced it good. A Tennessee was close 

 by, and (what I particularly enjoyed) a tan- 

 ager sat in the sun on the topmost spray 

 of a tall white pine, blazing and singing. 

 " This is the sixth day of the Cape May here, 

 yet I cannot think he means to summer." 

 So my pencil finished the day's entry. 



Whatever his intentions, I could not af- 

 ford to spend my whole vacation in learning 

 them, and it was not until the afternoon of 

 the 31st that I went again in search of 

 him. Then he gave me an exciting chase ; 

 for, thank Fortune, a chase may be exciting 



