76 ON THE BIRDS' HIGHWAY 



chipping sparrow that I heard, sang every 



morning in Mrs. 's garden, and a 



song sparrow had taken up his dwelhng 

 there also. In the woodlands I heard the 

 peculiar song of the yellow-rumped war- 

 blers, and at various times during my stay 

 chickadees were noted. Once when stroll- 

 ing through the DeWolf woods I caught 

 sight of a chickadee disappearing into a 

 hole in a decayed birch. I approached 

 quietly and clapped my hand over the en- 

 trance, thinking I had imprisoned him, 

 when from above my head sounded a 

 saucy " chic-a-dee," which I translated, 

 "You haven't got me," — but when and 

 how he got there I do not yet know. 



At half after six o'clock on the morning 

 of the twentieth I walked down the street 

 where my hostess lived to the shore, and 

 sat on a boulder looking out over the 

 placid bay toward Pappoose-squaw, the 

 sister point to Bristol, when a flock of 

 nine wild geese passed over, flying east ; 

 they were so low that even the sound of 

 their wings was audible. How calm and 

 soothing the mild southwest breeze was ; 

 no such zephyr ever finds its way to the 

 " north shore." 



