A BIRDS' GALA-DAY. 141 



I 



XIII. 



A BIRDS' GALA-DAY. 



N Mr. Emerson's poem entitled " May Morning " 

 this stanza occurs : — 



" When the purple flame shoots up, 

 And Love ascends the throne, 

 I cannot hear your songs, O birds. 

 For the witchery of my own." 



It would seem, therefore, that to be a poet does 

 not always give one the coign of vantage in observ- 

 ing Nature, but may, on the contrary, prove a 

 positive disadvantage. Should the rambler go about 

 " crooning rhymes " and making an over-sweet 

 melody to himself, instead of keeping his ear alert 

 to the music around him, he would be likely to miss 

 many a wild, sweet song fully as enchanting as his 

 own measured lines. No music of my own, how- 

 ever, diverted my mind from Nature's blithe min- 

 strels as, on the twenty-ninth of April, 1892, I 

 pursued my avian studies in some of my favorite 

 resorts. 



It was nine o'clock when I reached the quiet 

 woodland lying beyond a couple of fields. The 

 first fact noted was the return of a number of 

 interesting migrants which had not been present 



