AND THE WILDERNESS BLOSSOMED 



do not then apparently scatter over the lawns to 

 feed, but are satisfied with a hasty lunch on the 

 ripe red berries of the mountain ash. A few of 

 these birds spend the winter in the severe climate 

 of northern Maine, seeking shelter in the thickets 

 of fir and spruce. Too much cannot be said of 

 the beauty and variety in the song of the robin 

 during the nesting-season, and it is a constant 

 source of delight to me. Quite the reverse is his 

 sharp, scolding note of alarm. His confidence in 

 you evidently has its limit, and if you approach 

 too near his nest, he kicks up a fuss that will dis- 

 turb every feathered inhabitant of the island, 

 bringing the timid ones to the verge of nervous 

 prostration. Under such circumstances the robin 

 gets mad all over, taking no pains to conceal his 

 feelings, and, indeed, if he does not actually 

 swear, no bird ever did or could. 



The White-throated Sparrow, or Peabody Bird, 

 is not so conspicuous in his ways as is the robin, 

 and unless you look for him, you will rarely see 

 him by accident, though he does not appear to be 

 at all timid. It is his beautiful song, however, 

 that impresses itself upon you, as it rings out on 

 a July day, and be the gossip on the porch ever 

 so interesting, some bird-lover is sure to hold up 



94 



