Sprague's Lark. 



THE INVITATION. 



YEARS ago, when quite a youth, I was rambling in 

 the woods, one Sunday, with my brothers, gathering 

 black birch, wintergreens, etc., when, as we reclined 

 upon the ground, gazing vaguely up into the trees, I 

 caught sight of a bird, that paused a moment on a 

 branch above me, the like of which I had never be- 

 fore seen or heard of. It was probably the blue yel- 

 low-backed warbler, as I have since found this to be a 

 common bird in those woods ; but to my young fancy 

 it seemed like some fairy bird, so curiously marked 

 was it, and so new and unexpected. I saw it a mo- 

 ment as the flickering leaves parted, noted the white 

 spot on its wing, and it was gone. How the thought 

 of it clung to me afterward ! It was a revelation. 

 It was the first intimation I had had that the woods 

 we knew so well held birds that we knew not at all. 

 ,Were our eyes and ears so dull, then ? There waa 



