FIRST WEEK] August 21 1 



think the goldfinch a polygamist, as we see him in shining 

 yellow and black, leading his family quintet, all sombre 

 hued, his patient wife being to our eyes indistinguishable 

 from the youngsters. 



But in the case of most of the birds the cares of nesting 

 are past, and the woods abound with full-sized but awk- 

 ward young birds, blundering through their first month of 

 insect-hunting and fly-catching, tumbling into the pools 

 from which they try to drink, and shrieking with the very 

 joy of life, when it would be far safer for that very life if 

 they remained quiet. 



It is a delightful period this, a transition as interesting 

 as evanescent. This is the time when instinct begins to 

 be aided by intelligence, when every hour accumulates 

 fact upon fact, all helping to co-ordinate action and desire 

 on the part of the young birds. 



No hint of migration has yet passed over the land, and 

 the quiet of summer still reigns; but even as we say this 

 a confused chuckling is heard; this rises into a clatter of 

 harsh voices, and a small flock of blackbirds two or 

 three families pass overhead. The die is cast ! No 

 matter how hot may be the sunshine during succeeding 

 days, or how contented and thoughtless of the future the 

 birds may appear, there is a something which has gone, 

 and which can never return until another cycle of seasons 

 has passed. 



During this transition time some of our friends are 

 hardly recognisable; we may surprise the scarlet tanager 

 in a plumage which seems more befitting a nonpareil 

 bunting, a regular " Joseph's coat." The red of his 



