136 A JUNE ROUND OF CALLS. 



We resolved at once to assist at the debut, 

 secured reserved seats with a good view, and 

 seated ourselves to wait. 



Didst ever, dear reader, sit in one position on 

 a camp-stool without a back, with head thrown 

 back, and eyes fixed upon one small bird thirty 

 feet from the ground, afraid to move or turn 

 your eyes, lest you miss what you are waiting 

 for, while the sun moves steadily on till his hot- 

 test rays pour through some opening directly 

 upon you ; while mosquitoes sing about your ears 

 (would that they sang only !), and flies buzz nois- 

 ily before your face ; while birds flit past, and 

 strange notes sound from behind ; while rustling 

 in the dead leaves at your feet suggests snakes, 

 and a crawling on your neck proclaims spiders? 

 If you have not, you can never appreciate the 

 enthusiasms of a bird student, nor realize what 

 neck -breaks and other discomforts one will cheer- 

 fully endure to witness the first flight of a nest- 

 ling. 



This affair turned out, however, as in many 

 another case of great expectations, to be no 

 remarkable performance. When the debutant 

 had made his toilet, he flew, as if he had done 

 it all his life, to the next tree, where he began 

 at once to call for refreshment, after his exer- 

 tion. 



Disappointed, we dropped our eyes, whisked 



