1890
Jun 12
Belmont, Massachusetts
scattered or dead. There were the same birds, too. Orioles,
Cedar Birds, House Wrens, Bluebirds, King Birds, Chipping Sparrows,
Robins, Flickers, and the one inintable*[inimitable?] Wood Pewee uttering
its sad pee-è-e-ee every minute or two. Over the close-
cropped pasture outside five or six Barn Swallows were
skimming low over the turf, turning and returning, crossing
and recrossing the opening in endless mazy lines. From
the distant woods & swampy thickets came the songs
of Field Sparrows, Towhees, Thrashers & Cat-birds; from
the cedars the notes of the Black-throated Green Warbler, 
while the [delete]sweet[/delete] plaintive, measured chant of the Grass Finch
[delete]rose?[/delete] came softly from the [breezy?] pasture lands at
regular intervals. The thick mist and dripping grass
& foliage aided the recollection for when was the Saturday
holiday to which the boys looked forward through
the long [work?] not dark & wet. At least so it seemed
to me to-day as memory went back over a quarter
of a century to [delete]many]/delete] happy days spent in these very
same orchards among the ancestors of these same birds.