THE BEECH WOODS 



has heard it without a thrill? Thud, 

 thud, thud-thud-thudthudthudthud ! A 

 partridge was drumming somewhere on 

 the knoll, and the Neighbour tried to 

 see how near he could get to the old 

 fellow before being discovered, and 

 started warily forward. After crossing 

 a small stream the edge of the thicket 

 was reached; then extra caution was 

 exerted by crawling along the ground. 

 Foot by foot he went to the crest of the 

 knoll, but no stump or log appeared 

 with the drummer. A cottontail started 

 out beside a log and went over the side 

 hill in hurried jumps. Here he rested 

 and waited for the partridge to drum. 

 But there was no sound, only the wood- 

 thrush entertained him the while with 

 a full repertoire of songs and a squir- 

 rel, discovering him, sat on a fence rail 

 near by and started a subdued scolding. 

 Evidently the partridge had taken 

 fright and silently slipped away. Now 

 a gentle patter of rain started on the 

 dead leaves and the woodthrush poured 

 forth the full beauty of his flute-like 

 voice. No rarer, sweeter music was 

 ever heard in these woods. 

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