JUNE 



19 



In the sproutland beyond the red huckleberry, 

 an indigo-bird, which chirps about me, as if it had 

 a nest there. This is a splendid and marked bird, 

 high-colored as is the tanager, looking strange in 

 this latitude. Glowing indigo. It flits from the 

 top of one bush to another, chirping as if anxious. 

 Wilson says it sings, not like most other birds, in 

 the morning and evening chiefly, but also in the 

 middle of the day. In this I notice it is like the 

 tanager, the other fiery-plumaged bird. They seem 

 to love the heat. It probably had its nest in one 



of these bushes. 



THOKEAU: Summer. 



2O 



Instinctively our feet turned up the path to the 

 oven-bird's nest, so narrow that we brushed a 

 shower from every bush. There he was, singing 

 at that moment. " Teacher ! teacher ! teacher ! " 

 he called, with head thrown up and wings drooped. 

 And then while we looked up he left his perch, and 

 passed up between the branches out of our sight, 

 his sweet ecstatic love-song floating down to de- 

 light our souls. 



OLIVE THORNE MILLER: Little Brothers of the Air. 



Again I scent the white lily, and a season I 

 had waited for has arrived. How indispensable 

 all these experiences to make up the summer ! 



THOKEAU: Summer. 



