104 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



Swallows over the water, 

 Warblers over the land ; 

 Silvery, tinkling ripples 

 Along the pebbly strand. 

 Afar in the upper ether 

 The eagle floats at rest ; 

 No wind now frets the forest ; 

 'Tis Nature at her best. 

 The golden haze of autumn 

 Enwraps the bloom of May — 

 Fate grant me many another 

 Such perfect summer day. 



The difference of elevation between the mountain lake 

 and my home on the ridge by tide-water meadows — one 

 nearly of twelve hundred feet — ^had, I doubt not, much to 

 do with the distinctness that characterized the songs of 

 even the small migrating warblers. Many of these rest- 

 less birds that I have always had at home to seek out, that 

 I might catch as best I could the short, sweet songs they 

 whisper to the flowers only, here rang out their melody 

 in such bold, decisive tones that even their faintest utter- 

 ance was heard. 



The blue yellow-backed warbler was a prominent spe- 

 cies of this numerous family, and an excellent one where- 

 with to test the question of song variation in different lo- 

 calities. Dr. Brewer states that " it has no song properly 

 so called ; its notes are feeble and few, and can be heard 

 only a short distance " ; and quotes Mr. T. M. Trippe, of 

 Orange, New Jersey, to the effect that the song, while 

 " sharp and lisping," is quite varied, and consists of several 

 notes. This is quite applicable to such as I have heard at 

 home, where they are found all summer, and, I am in- 

 formed, true of them in southern Jersey, where, as along 

 Cohansey Creek, in Cumberland County, they breed in con- 

 siderable numbers. But about the lake shore, in Morris 

 County, where they were abundant, the sharpness and lisp 



