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mysterious, radiant, sylph-like bird, such as old Governor 

 Pierre Boucher described in Canada, in 1663 " rouge 

 comme du feu " (fiery red) seen occasionally during the 

 " leafy months " in remote, hard wood forests, les bois 

 francs, well styled Le Eoi, the King of birds ? Nor 

 shall I forget meeting the beauteous stranger on a 

 Queen's birth day, sunning his scarlet mantle in the 

 verdant groves of Eideau Hall, Ottawa. There seemed 

 to be quite a number of these showy creatures in the 

 neighborhood. I can well understand the enthusiastic 

 admiration of Elliott Coiies for this dear friend of his 

 early days. 



" I hold, says the learned Doctor, this bird in parti- 

 cular, almost superstitious recollection, as the very first 

 of all the feathered tribe to stir within me those emo- 

 tions that have never ceased to stimulate and gratify 

 my love for birds. More years have passed than I care 

 to remember since a little child was strolling through 

 an orchard one bright morning in June, filled with mute 

 wonder at beauties felt, but neither questioned, nor 

 understood. A shout from an older companion — •" There 

 goes a Scarlet Tanager " — and the child was straining 

 eager, wistful eyes after something that had flashed 

 upon his senses for a moment, as if from another world ; 

 it seemed so bright, so beautiful, so strange. " What is a 

 Scarlet Tanager ? " mused the child, whose consciousness 

 had flown with the wonderful apparition, on wings of 

 ecstacy ; but the bees hummed on, the scent of flowers 

 floated by, the sunbeam passed across the greensward, 

 and there was no reply, nothing but the echo of a mute 

 appeal to nature, stirring the very depths with an inward 

 thrill. That night the vision came again in dreamland, 

 where the strongest things are truest and known the 

 best; the child was startled by a ball of fire, and fanned 

 to rest again by a sable wing. The wax was soft then, 

 and the impress grew indelible, nor would I blur it if I 

 could — not though the flight of years have born sad 

 answers to reiterated questionings — not though the- 



