152 Bird Comrades 



to their rich and varied chansons. On the other side of 

 a small stream stood a shanty, in the door of which sat 

 an old negro woman. In looking at the birds, I some- 

 times turned the glass toward the shanty, although too 

 intent on my studies to notice it. Presently the woman 

 could no longer endure my apparent espionage, and so 

 she said: "Go 'bout yer own business, mister, 'n' don' 

 ye be spyin' inter my house! " 



