PROMISE OF MAY 



cato calls. But there seemed to be a dis- 

 agreement later, for after a little the first 

 bird was alone again. Then he began to 

 fly back and forth, high over the cove, till 

 his white throat seemed a sister to the 

 young moon, paper white in the zenith. 



All the kingfisher calls before that had 

 been brief, but now as he flew he clattered 

 like an alarm clock, the kind that begins 

 at ghostly hours and continues without 

 intermission till you finally get up in de- 

 spair and throw it out the window. His 

 cry would begin with his leaving the point 

 beyond the cove on one side, continue with- 

 out a break as he swung high, and only 

 cease when he had dropped to earth again 

 on the other side. Where he got the wind 

 for this continuous vaudeville I cannot 

 say. I have never heard a kingfisher call 

 so long without an interval before, but I 

 take it to have been a far cry sent out for 

 193 



