i88 BEACH GRASS 



in a name after all, and even a rose called by 

 some vulgar name would not smell as sweet to 

 the multitude. 



Another bird whose reputation as a singer is 

 not of the best, suffers unjustly, I believe, from 

 the imputation of being prosy, monotonous and 

 long drawn out in his singing. He is even called 

 a preacher in an uncomplimentary sense. I refer 

 to the red-eyed vireo whom I am glad to be able 

 to include in my forest orchestra, for to me his 

 song is one of quiet content, of a happy individ- 

 ual, philosophically and joyfully going about his 

 day's tasks with unhurried steps, of a sweet-faced 

 woman contentedly knitting, of a bird leisurely 

 gleaning his daily food and pouring out his soul 

 in thankfulness. One is not excited by his song 

 and does not hang on each phrase, but one may 

 enjoy it as a delightful background to the more 

 individual and detached efforts of other birds. 



One of the birds that occasionally makes flying 

 visits to my forest, but sings not in the ordinary 

 meaning of the word, is the hummingbird. 

 Chiefly for his benefit I planted trumpet-creepers 

 about my house. It is probable that the long bill 



