A WEEK ON WALDEN'S RIDGE. 143 



She answered pleasantly. It was the big 

 frogs that I heard, she reckoned. 



"Do you have whippoorwills here?" I 

 asked. 



" Plenty of 'em," she answered, " plenty 

 of 'em." 



" Do you hear them right along the road ? " 



"Yes, sir; oh yes." 



We had gone hardly a rod further before 

 we exclaimed in the same breath, " There is 

 one now ! " 



I inquired if there was another bird here, 

 something like the whippoorwill, meaning 

 the chuck-will's-widow. But she said no; 

 she knew of but one. 



"How early does the whippoorwill get 

 here?" said I. 



" Pretty early," she answered. 



" By the first of April, should you say ? " 



"Yes, sir, I think about then. I know 

 the timber is just beginning to put out when 

 they begin to holler." 



This mannerly treatment of a stranger 

 was more Christian-like than the stately 

 silence of my lady of the cabin, it seemed to 

 me. I liked it better, at all events. I had 

 learned nothing, perhaps ; but unless a man 



