A FAMILIAR GUEST 5 



down at the eaves to the top of a blind and peep- 

 ing in at the window to see how I like it. 



A woodchuck is perambulating my porch — he 

 was a moment ago — presumably in renewed quest 

 of that favorite pabulum more delectable than 

 rowen clover, the splintered cribbings from the 

 legs of a certain pine bench, which, up to date, he 

 has lowered about three inches — a process in 

 which he has considered average rather than 

 symmetry, or the comfort of the too trusting vis- 

 itor who happens to be unaware of his carpentry. 



The drone of bees and the carol of birds are 

 naturally an incessant accompaniment to my toil 

 — at least, in these spring and summer months. 

 The tall, straight flue of the chimney, like the 

 deep diapason of an organ, is softly murmurous 

 with the flurry of the swifts in their afternoon or 

 vesper flight. There is a robin's nest close by 

 one window, a vireo's nest on a forked dogwood 

 within touch of the porch, and continual remind- 

 ers of similar snuggeries of indigo-bird, chat, and 

 oriole within close limits, to say nothing of an 

 ants' nest not far off, whose proximity is soon 

 manifest as you sit in the grass— and immediate- 

 ly get up again. 



Fancy a wild fox for a daily entertainment! 

 For several days in succession last year I spent a 



