SPRING 109 



same hurried phrase, not quite monotonous, 

 since the pitch rose a little on the last coup- 

 let. That was a suspicious circumstance, 

 and by this time I should not have been 

 mightily astonished if a Blackburnian had 

 disclosed himself. Another twig stirred. 

 Still I could see nothing ; and still I fought 

 mosquitoes (a plague on them!) and kept 

 my eye steady. Then the fellow did again 

 what he had done so often, stepped out 

 upon a flat, horizontal branch, pretty well 

 up, and posed there, singing and preening 

 his feathers. I could see his yellow breast 

 streaked with jet, his black crown, his red- 

 dish cheeks, with the yellow patch behind 

 the rufous, and finally the big white blotch 

 on the wing. We have lovelier birds, no 

 doubt (the Cape May's colors are a trifle 

 " splashy " for a nice taste, for my own 

 taste, I mean to say), but few, if any, whose 

 costume is more strikingly original. 



I stayed by him. till my patience failed, 

 the mosquitoes helping to wear it out ; and 

 all the while he reiterated that comparatively 

 lively zip-zip, so very different from the list- 

 less zee-zee, which I had seen him use on pre- 



