156 Sappy Goldfinches. 



apparently examines one-half of the trunk, though, 

 probably', his eyes, accustomed to the work, see 

 farther than we may imagine. The orchard is never 

 long without a tree-climber : it seems a favorite re- 

 sort of these birds. The}' have a habit of rushing 

 quickly a little way up ; then pausing, and again 

 creeping swiftly another foot, or so, and are so 

 absorbed in their pursuit that they are easil}^ ap- 

 proached and observed. 



Who can sta}^ indoors when the goldfinches are 

 busy among the bloom on the apple trees? A flood 

 of sunshine falling through a roof of rosy pink and 

 delicate white blossom overhead ; underneath, grass 

 deeply- green with the vigor of spring, dotted with 

 yellow buttercups, and strewn with bloom shaken by 

 the wind from the trees : is not this better than for- 

 mal-patterned carpets, and the white flat ceilings that 

 weigh so heavily upon the sight? Listen how happy 

 the goldfinches are in the orchard. Summer after 

 summer they build in the same trees — bushy-headed 

 codlings ; generation after generation has been born 

 there and gone forth to enjoj^ in turn the pleasures 

 of the field. 



A 3-ear — nay, a single summer — must be a long 

 time in their chronology, for tlie}' are so very, very 

 busy : a bright sunshiny day must be like a month to 

 them. Now coquetting, now splashing at the sand}' 

 edge of a shallow streamlet till the golden feathers 

 glisten from the water and the red topknot shines, 

 awa}' again along the hedgerow searching for seeds, 

 singing all the while, and the tiny heart beating so 

 rapidl}' as to compress twice as many beats of emo- 

 tion into the minute as our sluggish organizations 



