Bethel, Maine
1913.
Nov. 15-22
(No. 5)

Evening Grosbeak

house & up to my room. Scarcely had I seated
myself there than the whistling calls were resumed, seeming
to come from very near at hand. Rushing down and out I
could still hear them but growing fainter & fainter until they
quite died away in the distance, towards Paradise Hill. There
I hastened, without avail, however, for the bird that made
them was neither heard nor seen again. On mentioning it
at the Doctor's table, at luncheon time, I learned that he
too had noted its loud voice while treating a patient in
Green Gables cottage & stepping to the window had seen me
looking for it in the shrubbery. Just after I entered the house
he saw it fly from the shrubbery into the top of an oak
that stands midway between the two houses, where I 
had a good view of it but against the sky so that its
colors were not well shown. Before this, however, and just
before I had emerged from the Gehring mansion it had