j8 The Hawkeye O. and 0. 



Now he ruffles out his plumage, 

 Then outspreads his wings and tail, 



While his mates unceasing rattle 

 Like an ancient coat of mail. 



Thus are passed the days of summer, 

 Till the haying tirrle is o'er, 



Then he's silent, and his music 

 For the year is heard no more. 



But the female with her offspring 

 Lingers late among the grain, 



Till the voice of nature calls her, 

 To the sunny south again. 



A PAIR OF RED-EYES. 



BY WILL. H. PLANK, "FURGUSON. 



A pair of red eyes, coat of olive-green, with vest and 

 pants to match, attracted my attention, one afternoon in 

 early May, some years ago, as I was slowly meandering 

 through a forest seeking the curious and wonderful stores 

 that nature ha<= cached everywhere, was the first time I ever 

 saw the Red-e/ed Vireo, or Greenlet, as it is sometimes call- 

 ed. Since then in nearly all of my rambles from early spring 

 to autumn, I hear its sweet song full of melody and spirit. 

 We are no longer strangers, but friends. This little feather- 

 ed friend of mine has taught me many a lesson of patience 

 in looking for her nest, and when found I was fully rewarded 

 for the hours spent in its search. It happened this way. 

 CorriT7 t 1 TO'. ,r ~ 1 -' p. prove mv evs fell irpon a little bunch of 



