240 VIRGINIA 



to have come northward in a body. No- 

 thing had been seen or heard of them before, 

 but from this morning they abounded in all 

 directions. In a single night they had taken 

 possession of the woods. Here was the first 

 Canadian warbler of the season, singing 

 from a perch so uncommonly elevated (he 

 is a lover of bushy thickets rather than of 

 trees) that for a time it did not come to me 

 who he was, — so exceedingly earnest and 

 voluble. A black - throated blue warbler 

 almost brushed my elbow. Redstarts were 

 never so splendid, I thought, the white of 

 the dogwood blossoms, now in their prime, 

 setting off the black and orange of the birds 

 in a most brilliant manner, as was true also 

 of the deep vermilion of the summer tana- 

 ger. A Blackburnian warbler, whose flame- 

 colored throat needs no setting but its own, 

 had fallen into a lyrical mood very unusual 

 for him, and sang almost continuously for at 

 least half an hour, — a poor little song in 

 a thin little voice, but full of pleasant sug- 

 gestions in every note. The first Swainson 

 thrush was present, with no companion of 

 his own kind, so far as appeared. I pro- 

 longed my stay on purpose to hear him sing, 



