FAR AND NEAR 



in my pea-bushes. The black and white creeping 

 warblers are perhaps the most abundant. A pair of 

 them built a nest in a steep moss and lichen cov- 

 ered hillside, beside a high gray rock. Our path 

 to Julian's Rock led just above it. It was an ideal 

 spot and an ideal nest, but it came to grief. Some 

 small creature sucked the eggs. On removing the 

 nest I found an earth-stained egg beneath it. Evi- 

 dently the egg had ripened before its receptacle was 

 ready, and the mother, for good luck, had placed 

 it in the foundation. 



One day, as I sat at my table writing, I had a 

 call from the worm-eating warbler. It came into the 

 open door, flitted about inquisitively, and then, 

 startled by the apparition at the table, dashed 

 against the window-pane and fell down stunned. I 

 picked it up, and it lay with closed eyes panting in 

 my hand. I carried it into the open air. In a mo- 

 ment or two it opened its eyes, looked about, and 

 then closed them and fell to panting again. Soon it 

 looked up at me once more and about the room, and 

 seemed to say: *' Where am I ? What has happened 

 to me ? " Presently the panting ceased, the bird's 

 breathing became more normal, it gradually got its 

 bearings, and, at a motion of my hand, darted away. 

 This is an abundant warbler in my vicinity, and 

 nested this year near by. I have discovered that it 

 has an air-song — the song of ecstasy — like that 

 of the oven-bird. I had long suspected it, as I fre- 



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