102 EVERYDAY BIRDS 



" Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green, 



Thy sky is ever clear ; 

 Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, 

 No winter in thy year." 



It is worth giving a little time daily to what is 

 called ornithology to be able to greet such wan- 

 derers as they come and go. For some days now 

 a few Western palm warblers have been paying 

 as a visit, and, though the town has never com- 

 missioned me to that office, I have taken it upon 

 myself to do them the honors. They have met 

 nie halfway, at least, as the everyday expression 

 is ; yielding readily to my enticements, and more 

 than once coming near enough to show me their 

 white lower eyelids, so that I might be quite sure 

 of their identity. A little later the Eastern palm 

 warbler will be due, and I hope to find him equally 

 complaisant ; for I wish to see his lower eyelid, 

 also, which is yellow instead of white. 



At this time of the year, indeed, there is no 

 lack of such interesting and well-dressed stran- 

 gers, no matter where we may go. The woods 

 are alive with them by day, and the air by night. 

 There are few evenings when you may not hear 

 them calling overhead as they hasten southward. 

 Men who have watched them through telescopes, 

 pointed at the full moon, have calculated their 

 height at one or two miles. One observer saw 



