Robin Hood's Barn 



the Sittings, dartings, scurryings, that make up 

 its busy life. It will not be to-day, for already 

 I catch a weU-known "chip," and am upheld by 

 the yellow-throat in his diminutive black mask. 

 Is he the same highwayman who so ineffectually 

 crossed my path last year? I am more certain 

 of the catbird as an old acquaintance ; for I rec- 

 ognize in his agility with notes a sudden drop to 

 plaintiveness. Some years ago he heard and 

 made his own the wistful song of the chewink. 

 He also has acquired no knowledge of my friend- 

 liness, and with one glimpse of- me he stops his 

 careless practicing and reiterates an expostulat- 

 ing "mew," Surely, too, I have disturbed before, 

 just here, a pair of redstarts; have seen their 

 restlessness acquire a sudden purpose, and 

 watched the female keep before me, flirting at 

 me the full spread of her buff tail. Always it 

 is she whose uneasiness reminds me that the pleas- 

 ures of renewal are mine alone, and that I must 

 move warily, if I am not to put to flight the very 

 ones I seek. 



Not that I expect to get a glimpse again of 

 the Carolina rail, his long beak held even with the 



[164] 



