262 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



mood. Sometimes as many as five or six 

 were singing together, while a chorus of 

 snowbirds trilled the prettiest of accompani- 

 ments ; a concert worthy of Easter or any 

 other festival. 



The weather has been of a kind to keep 

 night-traveling migrants here, I say ; which is 

 as much as to say that it has been of a sort 

 to prevent other such birds from arriving. 

 There have been no bright nights, I think, 

 since April came in. So it happens, accord- 

 ing to my theory (which may be as sound or 

 as unsound as the reader pleases), that al- 

 though it is now the 10th of the month, 

 there has been, for my eye, no sign of chip- 

 per, field sparrow, or vesper sparrow. How 

 should there be? How should such crea- 

 tures find their way, with the fog and the 

 rain blinding them night after night? No 

 doubt they are impatient to be at home again 

 in the old dooryards, the old savin-dotted 

 pastures, and the old hay-fields. By and by 

 the clouds will vanish, and they will hasten 

 northward in crowds. The night air will be 

 full of them, and the next day all outdoor, 

 bird-loving people will be in clover. 



