80 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



incentive, and he stops for but a moment between bits, to sing softly 

 to himself " sweet-sweet-sweet-ain't-she-sweet; " to the eternal feminine 

 of spring time. 



A harsh-noted Catbird shrieks defiance all around, and at me in par- 

 ticular, as his bold, bright eyes spy me, and our mental opinion of each, 

 other is synomyous. The one discordant blot upon each other's perfect 

 moment. But after the manner of discords, we each cling to our van- 

 tage ground, he demonstratively, I silently, as befits our relative situ- 

 ations. And now, oh vision of ecstatic and artistic bliss, down through 

 the valley darts a brilliant Goldfinch, hotly pursued by a flash of 

 gleaming blue, and through a fragrant thorn bush they dash in their 

 winged tilt, while my eyes endeavor to compass the kaleidoscopic- 

 movements of these color convolutions of sapphire and gold. But the 

 heaven-backed bird comes off veritably, with flying colors, for his* 

 gilded opponent slips out of sight into some fallen branches until the 

 departure of his enemy, who only remains long enough to call a 

 breathless " dearie-come-here, " before he is up and away. A black 

 coated, white shirted, bronze-vested, Towhee or ground robin as he is- 

 sometimes called, a disturber of the soil in toto, fusses among some 

 dead leaves beneath a neighboring oak, to the accomplishment of 

 nothing but an expenditure of his energies so far as I can ascertain. 



Another " winged gem " floats lazily across the scene, whose rich 

 butterfly mantle of crimson and black, was, I hope, securely sheltered 

 during the preceding storm. I often wonder where these ariel crea- 

 tures disappear to during a rain storm, for their garments are so 

 unfitted for a drenching, and of a texture too silken for a battle with 

 the angry elements. Perhaps they find security underneath some 

 sheltering leaf, holding their tightly clasped wings, "head to the wind" 

 to use a nautical phrase. Above a noisy little brooklet are; 



" Blue dragon-flies knitting 

 To and fro in the sun, " 



not quite such giants as are those fossils lately discovered by M. 

 Charles Brouguiart of Paris, in some insect-bearing strata in France,, 

 and that are said to have a wing expanse of 24 inches, and are consid- 

 ered the forerunners or ancestors of the dragon-fly of to-day. But 

 doubtless our own sheeny-winged species look no less formidable to 

 the tiny little butterfly whom he makes captive by grasping between his. 

 two bits of teeth, to the eventual extinction of its sweet existence 

 But the most characteristic ode to the Dragon-fly is given us by James 

 Whitcomb Riley, and which is so expressive of its manner of airily 

 sailing through its short period of life. 



