32 GAME-BIRDS AT HOME. 



and how patiently we beat every foot of wet 

 ground in the marshes, and explored every 

 muddy place the dry weather had left in the 

 woods, or the damp spots of some low cornfield 

 where the green leaves hung yet uncurled by 

 drouth ! How we wondered where the woodcock 

 had gone, and where lived the few that were left ! 

 The mystery deepened love, and miles were 

 nothing for one glimpse of that whistling wing. 



Yet very tame seemed all this beside the day 

 when, after weeks of absence, the woodcock re- 

 turned full-feathered from the molt. The song 

 of the oriole had ceased in the woods; little 

 creepers stole no more along the limbs, hunting 

 for slugs on the green leaves; hushed was the 

 sprightly twittering of the wren in the thicket ; 

 and the mournful cooing of the dove was heard 

 no more in the oak. The crimson of sumac and 

 dogwood warmed the rich hues of the maples, 

 and beside the yellowing beech the fox-grapes 

 hung blue and fragrant among leaves of russet 

 and gold. The red sun struggled down through 

 smoky air, filling with dreamy softness the 

 spangled hillsides and sapling-groves where the 

 returning wanderer was to be welcomed from the 



