The Black Swans 



during these late August days is a 

 sorry specimen. This is especially 

 true of the robins. They are at this 

 period a sad and seedy lot. That 

 cocksureness of themselves so much in 

 evidence in early May has now quite 

 evaporated. The fact is the birds are 

 moulting. They seem to know that 

 they are altogether unpresentable and 

 shun publicity accordingly. You might 

 not think there is so much pride among 

 them, but the truth seems to be that 

 when in this moth-eaten state they 

 seek cover just as naturally as some 

 of the rest of us would under similar 

 conditions. They are neither courting 

 mates nor public notoriety, and we 

 therefore see little of them, and hear 

 less. That yellow-tinted feather lying 

 on the grass there was part of a flicker's 

 raiment only yesterday, and you can 

 pick up a hatful of them if you make a 

 business of it. Certain warblers are 

 already here en route for Caribbean 

 waters, and yesterday a big blue heron 

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