104 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



Swallows over the water, 

 Warblers over the land ; 

 Silvery, tinkling ripples 

 Along the pebbly strand. 

 Afar in the upper ether 

 The eagle floats at rest ; 

 No wind now frets the forest ; 

 'Tis Nature at her best. 

 The golden haze of autumn 

 Enwraps the bloom of May 

 Fate grant me many another 

 Such perfect summer day. 



The difference of elevation between the mountain lake 

 and my home on the ridge by tide-water meadows one 

 nearly of twelve hundred feet had, I doubt not, much to 

 do with the distinctness that characterized the songs of 

 even the small migrating warblers. Many of these rest- 

 less birds that I have always had at home to seek out, that 

 I might catch as best I could the short, sweet songs they 

 whisper to the flowers only, here rang out their melody 

 in such bold, decisive tones that even their faintest utter- 

 ance was heard. 



The blue yellow-backed warbler was a prominent spe- 

 cies of this numerous family, and an excellent one where- 

 with to test the question of song variation in different lo- 

 calities. Dr. Brewer states that " it has no song properly 

 so called ; its notes are feeble and few, and can be heard 

 only a short distance " ; and quotes Mr. T. M. Trippe, of 

 Orange, New Jersey, to the effect that the song, while 

 " sharp and lisping," is quite varied, and consists of several 

 notes. This is quite applicable to such as I have heard at 

 home, where they are found all summer, and, I am in- 

 formed, true of them in southern Jersey, where, as along 

 Cohansey Creek, in Cumberland County, they breed in con- 

 siderable numbers. But about the lake shore, in Morris 

 County, where they were abundant, the sharpness and lisp 



