My First Summer 



peckers hereabouts, and makes one feel at 

 home. I can see no difference in plumage 

 or habits from the Eastern species, though 

 the climate here is so different, -- a fine, 

 brave, confiding, beautiful bird. The robin, 

 too, is here, with all his familiar notes and 

 gestures, tripping daintily on open garden 

 spots and high meadows. Over all America 

 he seems to be at home, moving from the 

 plains to the mountains and from north to 

 south, back and forth, up and down, with 

 the march of the seasons and food supply. 

 How admirable the constitution and tem- 

 per of this brave singer, keeping in cheery 

 health over so vast and varied a range ! 

 Oftentimes, as I wander through these sol- 

 emn woods, awe-stricken and silent, I hear 

 the reassuring voice of this fellow wanderer 

 ringing out, sweet and clear, " Fear not ! 

 fear not ! " 



The mountain quail (Oreortyx ricta} I 

 often meet in my walks, a small brown 

 partridge with a very long, slender, orna- 

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