" LITTLE RIVERS:' 125 



And there is another famous one, which says : 



" Here perished the honoured and virtuous maiden, 



G. V. 

 This tablet was erected by her only son." 



* ' Au Large " is the title of the next essay, a Cana- 

 dian idyll, as charming as any of its predecessors. 

 Then comes " Trout Fishing in the Traun," which I 

 must not touch. 



The last is called "At the Sign of the Balsam 

 Bough," about either of which if the reader wants to 

 know anything let him buy the book. 



The volume closes, as it begins, with a charming 

 little poem, entitled "The Woodnotesof the Veery." 



I confess myself ignorant of this bird, but I gather 

 from the text that it is a native of New England. 

 " On the top of a small sumach, not thirty feet away 

 from me, sat a veery. I could see the pointed spots 

 upon his breast, the swelling of his white throat, and 

 the sparkle of his eyes as he poured his whole heart 

 into a long liquid chant, the clear notes rising and 

 falling, echoing and interlacing in endless curves of 



sound, 



'Orb within orb, intricate, wonderful.' 



Other bird songs can be translated into words not 

 this. There is no interpretation." 

 Here is the last verse. 



" O far away, and far away the tawny thrush is singing, 



New England woods at close of day with that clear chant are 



ringing ; 



And when my light of life is low, and heart and flesh are weary, 

 I fain would hear, before I go, the woodnotes of the veery." 



