138 THROUGH LIBRARY WINDOWS 



feathered tribe. What a variety, what a flut- 

 tering and chattering, singing and scolding and 

 scrapping. I was out at day-break but nature 

 was all awake and astir, the whole bird family 

 seemed unusually awing and songful. A half- - 

 dozen Red Breasts were on the lawn voracious 

 and vociferous. The Sparrows and Thrushes 

 were just wild with sweetest songs, the Oriole 

 was on the topmost twigs, the Cat-Bird down 

 in the low bushes, the Flickers racing up and 

 down and dodging around the apple-tree trunks, 

 Yellow birds in wavy flight, circled about glee- 

 ful in song; over in the pasture Blue Jay and 

 Crow scolded or sung in raucus tones as it 

 pleases you to interpret; everywhere every bird 

 was at his best of wind and song, as if by 

 appointment it were a "bird field day." Hun- 

 dreds of them concentred in our garden. Ruth 

 heard the racket and motherlike roused the 

 grandchildren, and out they came, half-dressed, 

 with a rush and shout but it only added joy to 

 the hour. This convention lasted for three 

 hours and almost on a concerted signal the 

 visitors fled and our own birds extraly fed 

 sought shelter and courted and mated. 



Never is bird-life so interesting as in the 

 spring-mating and honeymoon. How coy and 

 artful and bewitching their ways. What utter 



