The Rambles of an Idler 



perhaps, more correctly, blubbering. I heard 

 the night-heron and the great bittern, the yel- 

 low-breasted chat and a field-sparrow — this 

 bird singing in its sleep — ^marsh-wrens, an owl, 

 frogs, crickets, and, I think, the chattering of a 

 flying-squirrel. These at once and the bewil- 

 derment resulting from the attempt at identifi- 

 cation probably dulled my ears to many another 

 sound. As deep bass to all those lighter notes 

 was the chorus of innumerable toads that at 

 times drowned the childish trebles of more airy 

 creatures. 



It is easy enough to enumerate, but no trick 

 of words will make animal life stand out on a 

 printed page. Here are a few names ; the crea- 

 tures are still in the marsh. 



Through the three hottest hours of the day, 

 the indigo bird sings without a break. It does 

 not even seek the shade of a leaf. Are we to 

 learn some valuable lesson from this fact or is 

 the bird demented? 



Because we gather a great deal of valuable 

 knowledge through observation of the out-door 

 world, it does not follow that all animals are 

 wisdom personified. Interrupted evolution rc- 



80 



