178 STUDIES IN THE FIELD AND FOREST. 



r 



beings, employed only in providing for their own physi- 

 cal wants. But there are several of our most melodi- 

 ous warblers that still remain tuneful. The little wood- 

 sparrow sings more loudly and with a more varied 

 strain than ever; the vireos and wrens still enliven the 

 village gardens, with their almost unceasing lays, and 

 the hermit-thrush, from his deep sylvan retreatSj still 

 utters his liquid sirains, in the reverberating solitudes of 

 the woods. 



In the place of the birds, myriads of chirping insects 

 have sprung into life, and pour forth, during the heat of 

 the day, a continual din of merry voices. Day by day 

 are they stringing their harps anew, and leading out a 

 fresh host of musicians, and making ready to gladden 

 the days of autumn with the fulness of their songs. 

 At intervals, during the hottest- of weather, we hear the 

 peculiar spinning note of the harvest fly, a species of 

 locust, beginning low, and with a gradual swell, increas- 

 ing in loudness for a few seconds, and then slowly dy- 

 ing away into silence. These sounds are vividly asso- 

 ciated in my mind, with the pleasures and languish- 

 ments of a summer noonday ; of cool shades apart 

 from sultry heats ; of soft repose beneath the embower- 

 ing canopies of willows, or grateful repasts of fruit in 

 the summer orchard. There are likewise many sounds 

 in themselves disagreeable, which are relatively pleas- 

 ing. The hoarse unmusical note of the bull-frog, while 

 we are sauntering about the streams and lowlands, on 

 a sultry afternoon, produces an agreeable effect upon 

 the mind, by pleasing suggestions of soft breezes, still 

 waters, twilight scenery, and all the sweet accompani- 

 ments of a summer evening. 



The season of haymaking has arrived ; the mowers 

 are already busy in their occupation ; and the whetting 



