18 WAKE-ROBIN 
his parts in this manner. You are to look for him, 
not in tall trees or deep forests, but in low, dense 
shrubbery about wet places, where there are plenty 
of gnats and mosquitoes. 
The winter wren is another marvelous songster, 
in speaking of whom it is difficult to avoid super- 
latives. He is not so conscious of his powers and 
go ambitious of effect as the white-eyed flycatcher, 
yet you will not be less astonished and delighted on 
hearing him. He possesses the fluency and copious- 
ness for which the wrens are noted, and besides 
these qualities, and what is rarely found conjoined 
with them, a wild, sweet, rhythmical cadence that 
holds you entranced. I shall not soon forget that 
perfect June day, when, loitering in a low, ancient 
hemlock wood, in whose cathedral aisles the cool- 
ness and freshness seems perennial, the silence was 
suddenly broken by a strain so rapid and gushing, 
and touched with such a wild, sylvan plaintiveness, 
that I listened in amazement. And so shy and coy 
was the little minstrel, that I came twice to the 
woods before I was sure to whom I was listening. 
In summer he is one of those birds of the deep 
northern forests, that, like the speckled Canada 
warbler and the hermit thrush, only the privileged 
ones hear. 
The distribution of plants in a given locality is 
not more marked and defined than that of the birds. 
Show a botanist a landscape, and he will tell you 
where to look for the lady’s-slipper, the columbine, or 
the harebell. On the same principles the ornitholo- 
