SOUTHWARD BOUND 71 



gering summer resident of our own, as I 

 remember to have seen three birds of his 

 name in the same spot fifteen days ago. It 

 would be interesting to know whether bright 

 creatures of this kind do not feel humiliated 

 and generally unhappy when they find their 

 beauty dropping away from them, like leaves 

 from the branch, as the summer wanes. 



The best bird of the month, so far, bet- 

 ter even than the Lincoln finch, was a 

 Philadelphia vireo, happened upon all unex- 

 pectedly on the 17th. I had stopped, as I 

 always do in passing, to look down into a 

 certain dense thicket of shrubbery, through 

 which a brook runs, a favorite resort for 

 birds of many kinds. At first the place 

 seemed to be empty, but in answer to some 

 curiosity-provoking noises on my part a 

 water thrush started up to balance himself 

 on a branch directly under my nose, and the 

 next moment a vireo hopped into full sight 

 just beyond him; a vireo with plain back 

 and wings, with no dark lines bordering the 

 crown, and having the under parts of a bright 

 yellow. He was most obliging; indeed, he 

 could hardly have been more so, unless he 



