AT PEEP OF DAY 



little wild flowers rested against his soft dotted 

 breast. The blending of the wood-thrush color- 

 ings with the violet was one of the most har- 

 monious combinations on which my eyes have 

 ever rested. It is nothing to tell, but the vision 

 is one to remember with gladness. 



The great-crested flycatchers love this haunt, 

 and from this point they also fly over to the 

 table d'hote. I heard a loud call among the 

 brush-heap maples some days ago, and hurried to 

 the window for a glimpse of the visitor. It was 

 the great-crest. For a while he investigated the 

 trees, then alighted on the roof of the piazza just 

 in front of my outlook window. Such a delight- 

 ful show of innocent vanity and artless self-appre- 

 ciation as I witnessed during the few moments 

 that he halted! With his handsome crested 

 head at an angle to enable him to look over his 

 shoulder at his widespread, drooping tail, he was 

 viewing himself with charming complacency. It 

 might have been a young girl parading up and 

 down in her first ball-gown and turning back in 

 gleeful contemplation of her own train. I have 

 no doubt the dear fellow was congratulating 

 himself on his bewitching courting costume. 



But now for our onward stroll. A tiny sus- 



[187] 



