A COTTON PLANTATION. 187 
was sauntering idly along the path (idleness 
like this is often the best of ornithological 
industry), when suddenly I had a vision! 
Before me, in the leafy top of an oak sap- 
ling, sat a blue grosbeak. I knew him on 
the instant. But I could see only his head 
and neck, the rest of his body being hidden 
by the leaves. It was a moment of feverish 
excitement. Here was a new bird, a bird 
about which [ had felt fifteen years of curi- 
osity ; and, more than that, a bird which here 
and now was quite unexpected, since it was 
not included in either of the two Florida 
lists that I had brought with me from home. 
For perhaps five seconds I had my opera- 
glass on the blue head and the thick-set, 
dark bill, with its lighter-colored under 
mandible. Then I heard the clatter of a 
horse’s hoofs, and lifted my eyes. My friend 
the owner of the plantation was coming 
down the road at a gallop, straight upon me. 
If I was to see the grosbeak and make sure 
of him, it must be done at once. I moved 
to bring him fully into view, and he flew 
into the thick of a pine-tree out of sight. 
But the tree was not far off, and if Mr. 
would pass me with a nod, the case was still 
