96 WHIMSICAL WAYS IN BIRD-LAND. 



bages and potatoes, blessed is untidiness to the 

 lover of Nature. So long as I study birds I 

 shall carefully seek out the farmer who has lost 

 his energy, and allows Nature her own inimitable 

 way in his fields and lanes. The fascinations of 

 that neglected corner cannot be put into words. 

 The whole railroad embankment which bordered 

 it on one side, stretching far above my head, 

 was a mad and joyous tangle of wild-grape vines. 

 In the shade of a cluster of slender trees was a 

 spot enriched by springs, where flourished the 

 greenest of ferns, sprinkled with Jack-in-the- 

 pulpits and forget-me-nots. This was the de- 

 light of my heart, and my consolation for the 

 trials connected with chat affairs. 



Alas that the usual fate of Nature's divine 

 work should overtake it ; that into a " shiftless " 

 head should come the thought that railroad ties 

 and fallen trees make good firewood, and without 

 too much trouble can be dragged out by horses ! 

 As a preliminary calamity, half-starved cows 

 were turned in to nibble the grass, and inci- 

 dentally to trample and crush flowers and ferns 

 into one ghastly ruin. And at the same moment, 

 as if inspired by the same spirit of destruction, 

 some idle railroad " hand," with a scythe, laid 

 low the whole bank of grapevines. Ruthless was 

 the ruin, and wrecked beyond repair the spot, 

 after man's desolating hand passed over it; a 



