unruffled under the most exasperating 

 circumstances. 



One of the most inconspicuous things 

 about him, a thing that many of his 

 acquaintances do not suspect him of, 

 is a most delightful song. It is a quiet 

 affair, surprisingly well sustained and 

 varied, and full of sweetness and 

 melody. It can occasionally be heard 

 in spring after the leaves have come 

 out well, but is most frequently heard 

 later, in July or August, after most 

 other birds have ceased singing. The 

 singer is almost always hidden in a 

 dense leafy covert, but one can recog- 

 nize the singer by familiar calls that 

 slip now and then into the song. It is 

 hard to decide after one has heard it 



all, whether his song is a symphony of 

 his notes, or his notes are fragments 

 of his song. 



This pretty bird is found throughout 

 temperate North America, from south- 

 ern Labrador, Manitoba and British 

 Columbia south, in winter, to the north- 

 ern boundary of Lower California. It 

 breeds southward to the middle districts 

 of the United States, and it winters 

 mainly within the United States. The 

 nest is a beautiful little structure of vege- 

 table fiber and is lined with vegetable 

 cotton or thistle down, and it is placed 

 at various heights in trees or bushes. 

 The eggs are pale bluish white and are 

 unspotted. H. Walton Clarke. 



AMONG THE TREES. 



THE BIRCH. 



''How beautiful the country looks!" 

 thought Mabel, as perched on a grassy 

 knoll high up on the hillside, she looked 

 down into the valley beneath. "What 

 a variety of shades there are! Those 

 fields of wheat look just ready for the 

 reaper, and when the wind stirs them 

 they look like great billows of gold on 

 a mighty ocean. There, the oat fields 

 are swaying in the breeze ; their blue- 

 green color contrasts so prettily with 

 the wheat. How beautiful the country 

 is I and what a pretty tree that is yon- 

 der! Its silvery-white bark shows so 

 plainly through the foliage how pecu- 

 liar it is! its limbs show so dis- 

 tinctly and it stands so straight and 

 erect on this slanting hillside. The 

 young branches with their small, light 

 green leaves droop like the weeping 

 willow. Let me think, what kind of a 

 tree is it. I believe I have it now. 



'Nor Birch, although its slender tress 



Be beautifully fair, 

 As graceful in its loveliness 



As maidens flowing hair.' " 



These words she quoted, as she came 

 within its shadow and reached up, care- 

 fully drawing a long, graceful, trail- 

 ing twig near her and gently fin- 

 gered it. 



''You are right, I am a Birch," came 

 in low, musical notes to her ear. 



"And your voice is as low and sweet 

 as your foliage is light and airy. You 

 are a singularly graceful tree and the 

 shade which you cast on the ground 

 reminds me of the walnut for I can see 

 the flickering lights and shadows when 

 the wind stirs your leaves. You are 

 like the walnut in another respect, for 

 I can see the full outline of your 

 branches through your foliage." 



"In those respects I am like the wal- 

 nut, but unlike it in this, there is not 

 in my foliage the glint of gold which 

 you so admire in that tree." 



"Tell me about yourself, your family, 

 will you, Birch?" 



"If you wish; perhaps you know that 

 we, like certain other trees, are of an 

 ancient family, for we date as far back 

 as the tertiary rocks. There are nine 

 branches of our family of which one, 

 the Canoe Birch, should belong to the 

 Indian alone, for it was so interwoven 

 with his life as to be of it a part. It 

 furnished him not only with snowshoes 

 and sledges but also with canoes and 

 paddles, with which in summer he 

 could glide down the mighty streams, 

 shoot the foaming rapids, or steering 

 out into the placid waters of the inland 

 seas, wander from island to island, fish- 

 ing or hunting; or when intent on war 

 its frail bark would bear him swiftly and 

 safely to his enemy. Or again, when 



101 



