A SBARCH FOR A WHIPPOORWILL’S NEST. 193 
and hidden nooks—such flowers as the Mitchella repens, 
Coptis trifolia, Aralia trifolia, and epigea repens. 
The larger showy flowers may attract at first sight, 
but the pleasing effect is not lasting. One soon tires of 
even the flaming Kalmias and dazzling Azalias, when 
they appear in great abundance, and a handful or two 
is better than a wagon load. Not so with those delicate 
little flowers that one finds hidden in the leaves and 
moss. The other day, quite unexpectedly, I came across 
a bed of the little flowering wintergreen (Polygala 
paucifolia), the first that I had ever found in that local- 
ity, and no field of mountain laurel, or swamp of Rho- 
_ dodendrons ever gave me the pleasure that these little 
blossoms yielded. The thought of them still lingers in 
the mind like the memory of a pleasant dream, and I 
am tempted to make another journey just to look again 
upon their rose-purple faces. 
After a night’s rest we were in readiness to renew our 
tramp in the woods. The weather had cleared up, and 
the sun was shining on a perfect day. 
Before setting out we visited two old orchards, on the 
premises, and found a goodly number of our friends 
housekeeping in the apple trees. The silent lad, who 
was still with us, became more talkative, and insisted 
that “he had repeatedly seen a yellow wren in this 
orchard, and that the wrens were great bee eaters,” but 
we had grown a little skeptical concerning his knowl- 
edge of ornithology, and endeavored to persuade him 
that all these little birds save his bees by destroying’ 
moths and millers. 
