Killooleet, Little Sweet -Voice. 31 



so pleased with himself that he forgets he is not 

 Whippoorwill, who tries to sing as long as the brook 

 without stopping, and so keeps up the final lillooleet- 

 lillooleet as long as he has an atom of breath left to 

 do it with. 



But of all the Killooleets, and there were many 

 that I soon recognized, either by their songs, or by 

 some peculiarity in their striped caps or brown jackets, 

 the most interesting was the one who first perched 

 on my ridgepole and bade me welcome to his camp- 

 ing ground. I soon learned to distinguish him easily ; 

 his cap was very bright, and his white cravat very 

 full, and his song never stopped at the second note, for 

 he had mastered the trill perfectly. Then, too, he was 

 more friendly and fearless than all the others. The 

 morning after our arrival (it was better weather, as 

 Simmo and Killooleet had predicted) we were eating 

 breakfast by the fire, when he lit on the ground close 

 by, and turned his head sidewise to look at us curi- 

 ously. I tossed him a big crumb, which made him 

 run away in fright ; but when he thought we were not 

 looking he stole back, touched, tasted, ate the whole 

 of it. And when I threw him another crumb, he 

 hopped to meet it. 



After that he came regularly to meals, and would 

 look critically over the tin plate which I placed at my 



