JoE AND CRONIE. 105 


May 29th. Up in the morning just as it is coming day. 
They make a fire in the cook-stove, put on the coffee and open 
the camp door to listen to the song-birds. Finding the choir 
is about to tune up for another morning’s concert, they step 
out and take a seat almost among them. One of the squirrels 
barks at Joe, which Joe understands and throws him a piece 
of doughnut; this he jumps for and gets, running off with it 
chattering on the way ‘‘ good for one song only.” 
Soon the wood robin commences his whistling and_ his 
chat!” ‘‘chat!” and is soon joined by the choir, one by 
one, as they awake and gather around the camp, all joyously 
welcoming with apparent praise and gladness another fine 
summer morning. The white-throated song sparrow in the 
distance is again adding his happy song, and we hear him plain 
and clear in his pretty calls constantly this morning, and as 
he is heard all over the county. We hear him often when 
sitting engaged in our fishing, and dearly love his pleasant 
song and company. Every little while through the morning 
and evening he is telling us something like this: ‘‘I see see 
se teetatee teetatee te—,” and again, ‘‘ I see 

e—” lengthen- 
ing out his notes, sweet and very clear. The moose birds, 
crossbills, finches and chickadees fly almost in the camp to 
get the crumbs they throw out to them. The humming bird, 
which is seldom seen here in the forest, has found the clear- 
ing and tarries in the sunny place, often alighting on the 
bean poles, looking cunningly around the garden. They 
hardly suppose he as yet knows of the goodly quantity of 
scarlet runners and other blossoms which they are promising 
him in the sweet bye and bye, in the garden. A pair of cute 
little brown wrens with tails as straight up as- usual, are 
building their nest in a brush pile near the woodshed, Joe 
