68 FOOTING IT IN FRANCONIA 



chard s and ploughed land, grass fields and 

 pasturage; stiU without houses, however, 

 and having a pleasant natural hedgerow of 

 trees and shrubbery. In one of the orchards 

 was a great congregation of sparrows and 

 myrtle warblers, with sapsuckers, flickers, 

 downy woodpeckers, solitary vireos, and I 

 forget what else, though I sat on the wall 

 for some time refreshing myseK with their 

 cheerful society. I agreed with them that 

 life was stiU a good thing. 



Then came my novelty. I was but a lit- 

 tle way past this aviary of an apple orchard 

 when I approached a pile of brush, — dry 

 branches which had been heaped against the 

 roadside bank some years ago, and up 

 through which bushes and weeds were grow- 

 ing. My eyes sought it instinctively, and 

 at the same moment a bird moved inside. 

 A sparrow, alone ; a sparrow, and a new 

 one ! " A Lincoln finch ! " I thought ; and 

 just then the creature turned, and I saw his 

 forward parts : a streaked breast with a 

 bright, well-defined buff band across it, as if 

 the streaks had been marked in first and 

 then a wash of yellowish had been laid on 



