POAETQUISSINGS IN WINTER. 33 



and that from thence we might derive our supplies of 

 fuel. Prominent among the big trees still remaining is 

 an enormous buttonwood or sjcamore, that towers near- 

 ly one hundred feet above the creek. Much, I take it, 

 to the satisfaction of every passing bird, this tree is dead 

 at the top. There is one twisted and nearly horizontal 

 branch that reaches beyond the uppermost leaf-bearing 

 twig, which is now worn smooth by the feet of thou- 

 sands of travel- weary birds, that halt here on their jour- 

 neys. All birds that deign to leave the ground at all 

 love such grand outlooks as this mighty tree affords. 

 Even diminutive fly-catchers sing with greater unction 

 when perched upon it ; and there are migratory warblers 

 that, settling there, sing to the clouds, but never vouch- 

 safe a twitter to the earth-bound creatures below. 



Whenever the lightning strikes a tall tree, I believe 

 there is rejoicing in the hearts of the birds. They can- 

 not build observatories, but give them credit for thank- 

 fulness that Nature provides them with very many. I 

 confess to envying the birds that can sit on the topmost 

 twig of a tall tree, which the lightning has bared of all 

 foliage and superfluous branches. What a prospect lies 

 before them ! Be it even a crow or a blackbird, it is all 

 the same. They cry out in unmistakable terms, see/ 

 see! see! Only the meditative hawks enjoy the out- 

 look in silence. Perhaps, were I living in a hilly coun- 

 try, my enthusiasm would be less pronounced. My 

 mountain experiences are limited to the garret windows, 

 and an occasional climb to the cupola of the barn. 



To return to the trees ; if we cannot say of any tracts 

 of woodland still remaining, " This is the forest prime- 



2* 



