VIII 



A Colony of IVam's-Heads in WitcH 

 Hollow 



The solemn wood had spread 



Shadows around my head,^ 



" Curtains they are," I said, 



" Hung dim and still about the house of prayer " ; 



Softly among the limbs, 



Turning the leaves of hymns, 



I heard the winds, and asked if God were there. 



No voice replied, but while I listening stood. 



Sweet peace made holy hushes through the wood. 



Ai,icE Cary, The Sure Wihiess. 



IT was often a temptation during my search for 

 wild strawberries, to saunter through the swampy- 

 meadows on the northern slopes of Mount CEta, 

 where nesting bobolinks were busy about their 

 homes. Their happy notes are the first to awaken one 

 in the morning, and almost the last heard at twilight, 

 about the edges of the road and the orchard, where 

 they come in a very business-like way to search for 

 food, crying the while, " Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 

 spink, spank, spink; chee, chee, chee ! " 



As twilight deepens and the moon comes up from 



behind the grim form of the Dome, the mournful notes 



of a distant chorus of whippoorwills begin, echoing on 



until far into the early morning. The other noon I 



95 



