56 LEAVES FROM AN APRIL JOURNAL. 



of Massachusetts during his migration North and 

 eastward. 



Now that he is passing through, it is time to 

 observe him. The name of swamp robin, which 

 is sometimes given him, is an appropriate one, for 

 in his ramblings among the hummocks and sod- 

 dened leaves in search of food, he bears a strong 

 resemblance to our common red-breast. When he 

 essays long distances, he glides over the ground, 

 then halting suddenly, lifts his body almost in an 

 upright position. How alert he appears, standing 

 with drooped wings and eye dilated with curiosity ! 

 Like the robin, he has a way of turning back fre- 

 quently in his path, or of hopping off abruptly at 

 oblique or right angles to capture some dainty 

 morsel. I note the dusky olive coat, with just a 

 shade of green woven in the fabric, and some rust 

 on the tail, rump, and edges of the wings, as if the 

 garment had begun to fade. His white breast is 

 dashed with dark-brown spots, as if he had bespat- 

 tered it with mud. Now a whim seizes him, and 

 he runs like a mad bird up on the higher lands, 

 under the trees and round the ledges. In such 

 localities I suspect he often departs from the robin 

 method of foraging, and scratches, sometimes, as 

 the wood thrushes do. Although I did not catch 



