AN OCTOBER DIARY. 341 



solute silence to noisy, active life. All these creatures, 

 of whose presence I was unaware, appeared to be wait- 

 ing, each for the other, to break the spell that bound 

 thera. It fell to the kingfisher's lot. lie moved, spoke, 

 and all was set in niotion. 



Towards noon, when the gathering haze was tinting 

 with old-gold the distant hills, and half the horizon was 

 wrapped in mist, I wandered to the edge of the low-ljing 

 mucky meadow, scarcely hoping, even there, to find act- 

 ive life. A strange stillness brooded over all, and gave 

 to the occasional chirp of some restless bird a weird, un- 

 natural tone. Soon, however, I saw, far to the south, a 

 flock of grakles that were coming towards me. I wel- 

 comed their promised presence and stood awaiting their 

 arrival, when suddenly, from no cause that I could de- 

 tect, they turned towards the river. I was doomed to 

 be alone, and threw my stick into the tall reeds, as a 

 relief to my feelings. Yery childish this, I admit, but 

 happily it effected what I desired. As the stick fell, up 

 from a tangled mat of grass struggled a wee brown bird, 

 warbling a few sweet notes. I took it, they were uttered 

 to comfort me. Then another of these birds rose up, 

 but barely into view ; rose, sang, and disappeared. Nei- 

 ther flew boldly ; both seemed to be unable to do so ; 

 but the heretofore silent meadow now became vocal 

 with these sweet flute-notes in brown feathers, struggling 

 to be free. It was the marsh-sparrows that wrought 

 the change ; and probably, of all our song-birds, no one 

 is so little known to people generally. This arises prin- 

 cipally from the fact that their haunts are seldom in- 



