SPRING 103 



nothing for it — few as my days were grow- 

 ing — but 1 must visit tlie 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 



