AUGUST. 197 



not. Nevertheless, I was not to be left alone. I had 

 startled the many small birds that throng the marshes, 

 and these life-long familiars crowded about me. I am not 

 far wrong when I say, the smaller the bird the greater its 

 curiosity. 



Among the many that ventured even into the cluster 

 of button-bushes that was my shelter, came a crested tit- 

 mouse, and I laughed when it sang, after due inspection 

 of the spot, H sweet here, H sweet here ! The bird was 

 right ; I had found an enchanted isle. 



■ While the day lasted I was content with these small 

 birds — ^wrens, thrushes, warblers, titmice, and sparrows. 

 All came and went without let or hinderance, and accepted 

 my presence without complaint, as some had done while 

 I was struggling in the marsh. Some sang sweetly, and 

 others chirped in so contented a strain that their voices 

 were musical by merit of suggestiveness. Association is 

 the needed charm when we watch the birds. The stately 

 egrets were soon forgotten ; but who can forget the door- 

 yard songsters that have been favorites for years ? I even 

 forgot the treacherous marsh as well as its rare visitors 

 and was again at home. My feathered friends had merely 

 rambled from the garden and lawn with me, and we were 

 sojourning together in a little wilderness — a picnic more 

 enjoyable by far than many I have attended. With such 

 fancies I whiled away the sunny afternoon, and feared that 

 no trace of an adventure would enter into the day's out- 

 ing ; but at last it came. 



Certainly, not one of the birds in the bushes was nest- 

 ing ; nor were any accompanied by young birds. Think- 

 ing of this, I thought to imitate the cry of a fledgling in 

 distress, to see if the birds near by would be disturbed. 

 Immediately a cat-bird shrieked its alarm cry and came 

 very near to me. It located the sound I had made un- 

 erringly and berated me soundly for supposed cruelty. I 



