78 NEW HAMPSHIRE 



had suggested family pleasures. Perhaps they 

 were living over the past, perhaps forecasting 

 the future. Bluebirds have their full share of 

 sentiment, or both voice and behavior are rank 

 deceivers. Concerning this aspect of the case, 

 however, the frivolous yellow-rumps cared not a 

 farthing. They sat in a small apple tree conven- 

 iently near, and as often as a bluebird ventured 

 upon the wing, one or two of them started in- 

 stantly in pursuit. If he alighted upon a fence 

 post, down they dropped upon the next rail and 

 waited for him to make another sally. Once I 

 heard a bluebird utter a pretty sharp note of 

 remonstrance, but that, we may guess, only made 

 the fun the greater. Birds will be birds. 



My morning stroll (it is October 13, my last 

 day in Franconia) showed me, in addition to 

 the birds already named, one lonesome-mannered 

 hermit thrush, a few robins, two or three ruby- 

 crowned kinglets, one of them running over with 

 his musical twittity, twittity, twittity, a single 

 yellow palm warbler (this and the myrtle have 

 been the only warblers of the month), a red cross- 

 bill, going somewhere, as usual, and leaving word 

 behind him as he went, a small flock of pine sis- 

 kins, a strangely few song sparrows, one vesper 

 sparrow, one white-crown, a multitude of snow- 

 birds, a purple finch or two, a goldfinch, and a 



