304 TALKS WITH YOUNG OBSERVERS 



When, therefore, one morning my ear caught 

 the same blithe, ringing voice on the Hudson, 

 be assured I was quickly on the alert. How it 

 brought up the past. How it reopened a chap- 

 ter of my life that had long been closed. It 

 stood out amid other bird songs and calls with 

 a distinctness that attracted the dullest ears. 

 Such a southern Virginia air as it gave to that 

 nook by the river's side ! . 



I left my work amid the grapes and went 

 down to interview the bird. He peeped at me 

 inquisitively and suspiciously for a few mo- 

 ments from a little clump of weeds and bushes, 

 then came out in fuller view, and finally hopped 

 to the top of a grape-post, drooped his wings 

 and tail, lifted up his head, and sung and war- 

 bled his best. If he had known exactly what 

 I came for and had been intent upon doing his 

 best to please me, he could not have succeeded 

 better. 



The Great Carolina wren is a performer like 

 the mocking-bird, and is sometimes called the 

 mocking wren. He sings and acts as well. 

 He seems bent on attracting the attention of 

 somebody or something. A Southern poet has 

 felicitously interpreted certain notes by the 

 words, "Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweet." 



Day after day and week after week, till the 

 frosts of the late October came, the bird tarried 

 in that spot, confining his wanderings to a very 

 small area and calling and warbling at all hours. 

 From my summer-liouse I could often hear his 

 voice rise up from under the hill, seeming to 



